Sunday Afternoon
I went to see "Tropic Thunder" yesterday at the cheap theatre. Because I will pay to watch Robert Downey, Jr., read the phone book in sections alphabetically. But I would rather pay $3.50 than $10 to do so.
On my way there, I drove down one of the main drags in town. The street with the mall. And the other mall. And every franchised restaurant known to man. Or the hollowed out, empty buildings that housed old franchise restaurants that are now closed and gone forever.
It started to snow as I was driving. The temperature was just about 35 degrees. The snow wasn't sticking, yet, but the streets were wet. It wasn't nice out.
I saw a man as I drove past one of the major intersections, bounded by gas stations, a strip mall and a Mexican restaurant. He stood at the edge of the parking lot of the strip mall, which houses a sushi place, a tobacco emporium and a big and tall store, as well as a number of empty storefronts. It is an area which can be busy as all hell and simultaneously completely empty.
He held a sign on a big piece of poster board. The kind I used to use for Social Studies projects. Like when I did the project on Indiana when we each had to pick a state to research. Or the report on hemophilia.
"Family Man. Will work for food and diapers."
I've seen a couple other people with signs like this in the past few months. But no one has been standing on the side of the road in the cold, with snow melting on his baseball hat on a Sunday afternoon. I haven't seen someone out there on a day when he must know that everyone driving past him is going to the mall, to the grocery store, to Best Buy, to get something for someone for Christmas.
I thought of how humiliated he must be. I thought of how ashamed he must be. And I thought of how much courage it must take for someone to go outside with a sign like that, to subject themselves to the pitying stares of others, in order to try to scrape up some money or food to provide for his family.
I cried all the way to the theater. And I didn't laugh much at the movie.
On my way there, I drove down one of the main drags in town. The street with the mall. And the other mall. And every franchised restaurant known to man. Or the hollowed out, empty buildings that housed old franchise restaurants that are now closed and gone forever.
It started to snow as I was driving. The temperature was just about 35 degrees. The snow wasn't sticking, yet, but the streets were wet. It wasn't nice out.
I saw a man as I drove past one of the major intersections, bounded by gas stations, a strip mall and a Mexican restaurant. He stood at the edge of the parking lot of the strip mall, which houses a sushi place, a tobacco emporium and a big and tall store, as well as a number of empty storefronts. It is an area which can be busy as all hell and simultaneously completely empty.
He held a sign on a big piece of poster board. The kind I used to use for Social Studies projects. Like when I did the project on Indiana when we each had to pick a state to research. Or the report on hemophilia.
"Family Man. Will work for food and diapers."
I've seen a couple other people with signs like this in the past few months. But no one has been standing on the side of the road in the cold, with snow melting on his baseball hat on a Sunday afternoon. I haven't seen someone out there on a day when he must know that everyone driving past him is going to the mall, to the grocery store, to Best Buy, to get something for someone for Christmas.
I thought of how humiliated he must be. I thought of how ashamed he must be. And I thought of how much courage it must take for someone to go outside with a sign like that, to subject themselves to the pitying stares of others, in order to try to scrape up some money or food to provide for his family.
I cried all the way to the theater. And I didn't laugh much at the movie.
posted by Miss Head at
5:42 AM
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