Come Saturday Morning

Seven thirty.

I’ve got Gloria at nine o’clock this morning, so while I was at the store I bought her a sugar free Snapple tea. They had forecast light rain soon but I was skeptical and left my umbrella at home. At one point on Maxwell Road I was totally alone: no cars or pedestrians anywhere; just me for that stretch between River Road over the bridge to Prairie Road, a panorama of silent grayness above and below the horizon. Inside, I met with one other customer, a man who wanted to buy two coffees and three bagels, then fumbled for his wallet… which he had forgotten at home. Lisa saved his things behind the counter while he went back to get his money. The same thing happened to me maybe twelve or thirteen years ago, at night when I wanted a bottle of wine. So I felt kind of bad for the guy. I bought my stuff, maxing out my food stamps for the month, and headed out the door. I was on the sidewalk when the prodigal customer returned in his pickup truck and crossed in front of me. A few seconds later the rain started coming down, not hard; so I put up my hood, reflecting a bit on situational irony. And just now the sun comes out.


One thought on “Come Saturday Morning

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s