Yesterday morning I was walking down Sunset Blvd. to my local coffee house (lack of free internet equals increased focus on the writing). Along the way I passed 3 latino day laborers sitting on a low wall, three painters or dry-wallers taking their first break of the day. They looked fairly typical, wearing the day laborer uniform of ball cap, t-shirt and jeans. Except for what they were holding. Day laborer number one was noshing a Burger King breakfast sandwich. Number two was getting down on some hash browns. Number three? He was staring off into the distance as a red G-string hung from his loose fist in front of him.
What exactly had happened here? Could he not afford a BK breakfast sandwich? Was he dreaming wistfully of his lost love from an all-nude show from the night before? Were they his? He didn’t seem terribly envious of his compatriots’ meals. He wasn’t gazing longingly at it. The g-string was just there, the way one might idly dangle one’s keys. Maybe it’s his. Maybe he was thinking, “If I can just get through today, I can unwind on the pole when I get home.” Maybe it’s his lucky charm. If anyone has a reasonable explanation, please let me know. Probably the most mystifying thing I’ve seen
Publish Post
