End of May

Cold. Two wool shirts, a light fleece and a rainjacket. I was thinking I wanted a scarf or a hat, my friend put on gloves. In 7 hours we saw one show (The Bad Things at the Vera Project - enjoyed it) and wandered the merchant/food booths as well as met and re-met people. Finally, make a go for a belly-dancing showcase when I am drawn into a booth by bright colors and pictures of animals (jillmayberg.com) by the time I leave with some cards and a small clock, my companions are long gone. No matter, I head over to find the Pete Seeger Sing-a-long. After trying to read a bouncing page next to me, I ask someone where I can get a copy of the lyrics, they direct me to the other side, where I am directed back to where I started, but luckily find someone leaving.

I walk past 3 young men in a confrontation next to an idling cab, and duck into the tunnel entrance. I have a ten minute wait and start writing. On the bus, next stop, two punks with instruments get on, end up standing on either side of me. One of them reminds me of a friend I had 19 or so years ago. Too young, different colored eyes, beautiful. I feel feverish and start unzipping both of my jackets, thankfully, the window above me is open. The old woman across from me opens her eyes, slowing looks from one to the other, then back to the first, to the other and finally makes some space on the seat and taps the arm of one and offers the seat. He declines, eventually the other one takes it. At a stop a boy on crutches doesn't get out the door fast enough. When we ask for the door, the driver says he already opened it once and he's not going to open it again. I shout that the boy is on crutches, I don't know if he hears me, but he opens the door. Later, after I get off, I see him get up to tell the boy lying on the back seat to get up. I guess he's had a bad day. (and I can't stay connected to the internet.)