June 11, 2007
Walking to the park for lunch today, I saw a man on the other side of the street running down the sidewalk. He was really booking it. Arms and legs pumping, breathing hard. He wasn’t fat, but he didn’t have a runner’s physique, either. Yet he ran like he had purpose. If he’d been wearing a hat, it surely would have flown off.
As I crossed the street to the opposite corner, he left the sidewalk for the street and quickly ran around, then climbed in his car, started it and accelerated around the corner. I gave him a thumbs up on his dramatic escape, and he smiled and waved.
About five seconds later, the street sweeper brushed its way past the spot he’d been parked in, followed closely by a tricycle police car writing parking tickets.