two days ago on my lunchbreak I decided to stuff my face with my mini pechuga asada (small roast breast, I guess) next to the people’s bank HQ, where I can admire the barnum museum and bathe myself in that november stranger, sunlight. o sunlight. how I pine for you like a lover during these short-sunned months.
maybe I vaguely knew that the seating I chose to sit upon is popular with bmx bikers and skateboarders, since it displays the marks of their enthusiasm—dark edges and a closeness to the ground that encourages tricks. also: it is a fairly huge plaza, often empty of people because there is no greenery and some days the bank HQ and placement of buildings on this street creates a wind tunnel.
when one biker sped by and shot me a dirty look I was confused. then another did, then another, then one jumped his bike onto the long stone seating and then jumped off before hitting me. I realized what was going on, suddenly, and apologized because here I was, a single person with a plate of beans and chicken and plantains and rice taking over a landscape of fun for them. one of them said, "it's cool, we just have to head a little further." this made me feel better, but still sorry.
who owns these streets? we all do. I felt badly that I wasn't sharing them. but that lunch was delicious, and so was the sunlight blasting down in its wintry way.