Trash On Trash

You're walking. The city buzzes around you. Car horns. Rumbling exhausts. The constant mumbles from passing coversation. Your footsteps, relaxed but purposeful, add to the music. You're one face among many. Anonymous. And yet, you know you're at the center of it all. Your face is the best face. [[Keep walking]] [[Think more about yourself]]

You dodge a crumpled newspaper on the sidewalk. One extra step, a lithe little skip, and you're past it. Obstacle overcome. Level complete. You can be on your way. Except you look back at the newspaper. Looking back lets thoughts in. You're a good person, you think. You like a clean city. Litter is everyone's problem, even yours. You stop walking, take a few steps backwards, and [[bend to pick up the newspaper.]]

People say you're good looking. You tend to take people at their word. "Hey, good looking," you said to the mirror just this morning. It's okay. You cited your source: People. [[Keep walking]]

"Hey good looking," you hear someone say. The voice is deep and sexy. Full of confidence. A voice that knows what it's talking about. You look around. People move past you on the sidewalk, minding their own business. No one stops. [[No seems to be looking at you|No one's looking at you.]]

There's a trash bin on the corner. You take a few steps toward it. [[You reach out to drop the newspaper in.]]

That voice again. "Hey, you must be a newspaper too. Because I just want to read you all over." [["What the what?"]] [[" I'll be your editorial page, baby."]]

You look around again. Carefully, this time. A woman walks by, checking her phone. An old man sitting on a bench eats peanuts from a little white bag. A couple kids kick a soccer ball in the park. You've heard about hidden camera shows. Professional pranksters. You wonder which one of them has trained their camera on you, the best looking guy in the city. [[Confront the woman on her phone]] [[Confront the old man eating peanuts]] [[Confront the kids playing soccer]]

Because who wouldn't want a daily subscription to you? You're breaking news. You stop the presses. You roll the newspaper in your hands. This extra edition is coming home with you. [[Put in your breast pocket]] [[Put in your hip pocket]] [[Put in your butt pocket]]

To be continued...

You prefer cats to dogs, but you'd never begrudge a dog owner. Dog owners simply posess a different worldview than you do, that's all. A simple matter of live and let live. You'd still be wearing a flannel shirt tied around your waist if you could, but you're an adult now, a big city professional, and the world has moved on from flannel shirts, mops of hair and shaved undercuts--you'd never be able to explain a flannel shirt around your waist. You don't even own a flannel. Not for a couple decades.

To be continued...