The Alley

"I AM THE SECOND COMING OF CHRIST, WILL WORK FOR FOOD." As far as cardboard pan-handling signs go, that one takes the cake. The poor guy is fast asleep against a concrete wall, a little drool running into his thick, gray beard, that sign lovingly cradled in his lap. If Jesus were to have reached old age, this is actually what he might have looked like. Son of God or not, he looked so peaceful and innocent. It's hard to see something like that on that street and not be affected. If I had any cash, I would drop something in his cup. But I don't. I keep walking.

"You don't know! You don't know shit, man!" There's a woman of approximately forty years of age screaming at the top of her lungs at a pigeon. This particular bird, like all pigeons I have ever seen, has no fear of humans. He stands his ground while she rants and rails, and as she begins to punch her hand against a nearby street sign, he doesn't even blink. Her knuckles begin to bleed, and the bird stands there, like a tiny winged Buddha, unmoved and unmoving. She sees me coming, I avoid eye contact, and try to hustle on by, but it's too late. She's seen me. It's my turn.

"Hey you! Can you believe this fucker?! Can you believe him? Hey, I'm talking to you!" She doesn't like that I'm ignoring her, and her rage begins to rise further. She's coming at me full force now, bloody hand and all. "This little fucker thinks he can talk to me like that? He don't know. He don't know shit!"

She's blocking my path now, spraying spit and dripping blood, and wildly gesturing towards the pigoen. I have no choice but to engage her.

"Yeah, I've never liked him. He's an asshole." I say. Doing my best to sound angry at the pigeon.

She is so stunned that she freezes in place for a bit, eyes narrowed. I can't tell what she's thinking, if anything. Is she startled that someone agrees with her? Is she wondering if I'm a spy of some kind? But then, a wide toothless grin spreads across her face. "He IS an asshole!" She agrees very animatedly. "A big asshole!" She enjoys this a great deal, and laughs as she turns back to her feathered nemesis. "Did you hear that? You're an asshole, you little fucker!"

Thankfully, she spots a quarter nearby on the pavement. I am entirely forgotten, and can quickly make my way past.

As I half jog my getaway, I silently apologize to the pigeon for my harsh words. I was literally cornered, and didn't know what else to say, but I don't know him, he could be a really nice bird for all I know.