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January 18, 2005
Two good citizens.
The guy was probably 65 or so. White, bifocals, thinning hair, and focused intention. Before he crossed the street, I could tell that he was making a beeline for the newspaper machine. He jaywalked over as I perused the Chronicle's front page through plexiglas. He had a stiff carriage, favored one leg over the other.
I stepped away from the machine and glanced down the street at an approaching streetcar. The machine made a screee-cronk sound as he extracted the news of the world and the door flipped shut.
He didn't look at me when he said, "there's an extra, if you're interested," before entering the coffee shop; there was a fresh paper sitting atop the machine.
I was considering whether this could be defined as generosity when I saw an older woman from the neighborhood crossing from the opposite corner. She was about 70 with short white hair and red glasses with fashion-forward frames. Wearing chinos, a parka and New Balance sneakers, she was as hip as any of my neighbors.
She glanced at the free paper left by the larcenous Samaritan.
Screee-cronk!
She folded her purchase under an arm and entered the coffee shop.
Posted by Your Protagonist at January 18, 2005 09:20 AM