Every Day, Yesterday, and Today

The Starbucks has outdoor seating. Every day a man, presumably homeless, sits in the chair closest to the door. He smokes, giggling constantly, full-out laughing in spurts.

Yesterday a different man was seated in his chair. He was smoking and giggling and laughing in the exact same way. The homeless man walked by and glared at him.


* * *

Today, on the way to get something for lunch, there were three women walking in front of me.

I overhear one say, “I don’t care what we get, as long as it’s not sandwiches. I’m really not in a sandwich mood at all.”

I peel off at the next corner. On the way back, food in hand, I see the three quietly seated on a bench. Two are eating Subway sandwiches. The third is smoking.