Thirteen People I saw from the Cherry Street Coffee House on First Avenue in Seattle while listening to a reggae version of Summertime:
1. A gum-chewing octogenarian.
2. A determined woman in a wallpaper-print shirt.
3. A man walking arm in arm with his mother.
4. Many people wearing baseball caps.
5. A pregnant woman in bright green followed by an anorexic woman in deep blue.
6. A woman in a marshmallow coat.
7. A man in a white suit and green, rattlesnake shoes.
8. A woman in red spike heels carrying an oversized pinto pony shoulder bag.
9. Somebody I thought I knew, but didn’t.
10. God. (Maybe. If so, disguised)
11. A parking enforcer on a Segway.
12. People glancing at me while I ate gyros. (Only three people)
13. The determined woman. (Again. Going the other way)
Either:
The gum-chewing octogenarian confided in me that she prefers 5 Gum, because she likes the idea of lying on a gymnasium-sized speaker bathed in ball bearings.
Or:
She didn’t.