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December 20, 2005
Observed through a window from an elliptical machine.
Black female, early thirties. An elderly man in a Buick stops short at the intersection, causing subject to stomp on her brakes. Rather than curse the driver in front, she bows her head and puts her hands together in a prayerful manner. Her luminous white fingernails are clearly visible from my vantage point across the street on the second floor.
White male, late twenties. He's riding in the bike lane beneath me, piloting a beater covered in duct tape and spraypaint. He's towing a three-wheeled trailer made out of metal grating that's carrying a small brown dog with a perplexed look on its face.
Two-toned Rolls Royce, tan on brown, heading east. It's driven by a portly black man in late middle age who's fumbling with a cell phone.
A very muscular latin man in his thirties. He's wearing a very tight T-shirt with large block letters: "I'M your papi." He holds his coffee cup delicately, adjusting the cardboard finger protector several times as he crosses the street.
Two white males in their early twenties park an old Chevrolet Caprice illegally. The driver removes the custom steering wheel and exchanges it in the trunk for a gym bag.
Posted by Your Protagonist at December 20, 2005 08:06 PM