1. Can there be a lonelier place than outside a 7-Eleven around midnight? Around that time on October 19th, a small woman wearing a blue backpack was pacing near the Ready Ice machine, slow steps, smoking, turning, step, then another step, drag, tip of her cigarette glows – her face is sweet, framed with a dark beret covering her ears and pulled down close to her eyes.
2. The store’s glass door opens with a surprising energy … it’s a man I know from the Riverfront Trail, I'll call him “Shuffler," he sat down at “my” table in the park one morning, without looking at me, puffing on a butt of tobacco, and shuffling a deck of cards, not fancy, just up and down between his hands, rhythmic, giving his body a purpose … with no eye contact, he continues to shuffle and puff, not even a nod like men do – I rounded up my Cloud Hands Meditation without a word, picked up my cup of tea and left the park … regretting I didn’t reach-out … he scared me. 3. “No-eye-contact, no-Howdy!-from-me,” I comforted myself.
4. From then on, I’d see Shuffler more often on the Trail, his usual spot was by a bench near the eastern end, with his shirt off, showing his tattoo of words strung out on his fat free chest like a heavy necklace of Gothic letters, and he would be shuffling cards, his eyes staring straight ahead, not returning my gaze, I kept walking – I was walking briskly, doctor’s orders. 5. Then one morning we talked at the born-again Gazebo; I bounded up the steps (still no ADA ramp) to join Shuffler with a genuine attempt at making small talk: “Whoa, is this looking good, or what?” Or something like that but not a peep from Shuffler – who was not shuffling cards at this time – I took some pictures, playing my part, then stepped up next to him on my way out and said, looking at him, “Didn’t I just see you shuffling cards on the trail,” I asked? Received an affirmative response while he was reaching into the pocket of his sweat pants (noticing grime around pockets is a speciality of mine ). “Just doing my pot,” he mumbled, pulling out a small tin … wondered later if he was inviting me to join him? 6. Anyway, there he was, outside the 7-Eleven store holding a family size pizza box in both hands offering it to the girl in the blue backpack who had her wallet thing out and removing bills she gave to him with directions and took the pizza box; Shuffler returned to the store. 7. She opened the cover and put her nose closer then shut it, he was back with a Strawberry Shortcake ice cream thing on a stick and gave it to her as he took back the pizza and they left the parking lot and headed down Avenue D toward the river.
Notes: Backpack contained a hat, a wallet thing, and odd stuff at the bottom, I propped up the pizza box cover to learn that only three slices were missing!
I closed up the backpack and hung it on a sign ... it was gone the next morning. ~w.
Never mind, all's well after all.
Hot damn Warner, this is cool! A peek, just a tiny peek, into the lives of people you might just walk on by ... I’ll keep my eye out for the Shuffler