I’m going to have to re-think my relationship with the Nicollet Mall. For some time now I’ve been eating my lunch at my desk, more often than not. It’s not some oddball agoraphobia. No, it’s a product of my environment. In my feast or famine workplace, I’m often too busy to leave my desk for long. When things do slow down a bit I usually forget that I can walk away. For a little while. And when I do…strange things happen. This afternoon I had lunch plans. As I was waiting for my friend to arrive two gruff-looking men passed me. I wouldn’t have taken note of them except that, with my super mom-hearing, I happened to catch a bit of their conversation.
“Geesh, y’see that crazy sweater?
She looks like a fucking bird.”
When I realized I was the bird-lady I snapped my head around to look on my critic full in the face. But he hastily avoided eye contact as he ambled on…shifting his eyes as he flicked his cigarette butt on to the sidewalk.