the people behind us
on the sidewalk
the people behind us on the sidewalk
are getting on my fucking nerves
it happens a lot in this city
you’re never alone
there’s always someone behind you day or night
i’ve learned to deal with it
as part of the charm of living here in sodom and gomorrah
but not this morning
these people behind us on the sidewalk
are working my last bit of patience
i’m trying to calm my wife about her MRI
i’m trying to quell my own fears with confidence
normally we’d walk faster
but neither of us want to go where we’re headed
the people behind us on the sidewalk
are making it so hard
talking about their goddamned cell phones
some fucking television show
they spent all day yesterday streaming
in between world cup soccer matches
what luck they must have to have it so fucking easy
i can’t even think with their chatter
and my wife can tell that i’m in a mood
she doesn’t need this from me or from them
she’s got enough to worry about this morning
would it be impolite to turn around
and tell the people behind us on the sidewalk
to maybe shut the fuck up about whether or not
they want mexican or thai for lunch?
finally my wife makes the move
she says, i have something in my shoe
so we stop to let the people behind us on the sidewalk go
but they are in no hurry too
her in her stupid, floppy summer hat
and him in some fucking disney hoodie in the heat
what grown man wears walt disney shit? i ask
we end up overtaking them at the street light
thankfully we go one way and they go the other
off to iced coffee daydreams and red velvet cupcake heaven
the people behind us on the sidewalk
finally out of our lives forever
until we see them again in the waiting room
of the MRI office
where she goes up to the desk to fill out paperwork
as he keeps his eyes planted on her
his look one that i’ve learned to recognize
in my own mirror
that of utter horror and astounding disbelief.
06.24.14
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