It was an unseasonably warm 75 degrees this particular October morning, just a few short weeks ago.
I was simply on my way to return a book to the local library. As I’m walking down the one-way street, I notice the snarled rush hour traffic just ahead and quickly gaze to my left.
Heading toward me, peripherally, is a young woman in a ribbed white sweater and black skinny jeans — fitting the exact Millennial profile that product advertisers (and some politicians) so desperately covet. Her approach is less than 10 feet away. My pace doesn’t give an inch. Neither does hers. But, I’m also looking at the red traffic light directly in front of me. Equidistantly split we are to the corner.
Now, I’ve got on a pair of Nantucket red jeans, a basic black thermal tee, a black pair of Cole-Haan sandals on my feet and a grey herringbone newsboy cap on my head. A 20 oz. coffee regular in one hand and Chester Himes’ “If He Hollers, Let Him Go” in the other.
The young woman slightly quickens her step and crosses in front of me. I pays it no mind. (Maybe, in her thinking, she’s got the right-of-way.) Yet, a strange thang happens during that brief interaction at the intersection: The young woman brings her left hand across her body and places it near the zipper on top of her gray designer bag as she passes me.
Then, she tilts her head to the right and smiles. In my direction.
I might add that the young woman had stringy, dirty blonde hair. I thought about it for a hot second. And, addressed it.
You don’t want to know.
Somehow, I would imagine this very same young woman would consider herself to be “liberal”. She might even think of herself as a “hipster”.
Whatever it is, there’s a reason why #IMNOTWITHHER.
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