integrabile_reale; black and red India ink on paper (page from an old math text book).
Yes, I am officially not with it, now that I have to look up this sort of thing. On the internet.
And I meant to tell C about when I came in the door but of course she immediately started complaining about the furniture or the blinds or our rotation around the sun or something and my mind was laser zapped.
But I did remember a few days later.
"Hey, did you see those shoes hanging on the power line over the street?" I asked, all ready to get into a conversation about it.
"Yeah yeah, those have been there for a year," C said, going up the stairs with her crossword and glass of wine.
"Oh, I can't stand that bitch," said one.
"I know," said another. "That's why I hope she gets knocked out."
Oh. Do girls really knock each other out these days? I've seen girls fight before, and it's always been this fury of hair and teeth and drunken line dancing. Nobody was ever in danger of being knocked out.
* * * * *
Walking home from the studio Sunday afternoon when I noticed a pair of sneakers hanging from one of the power lines which crosses our street. Is this code for something? According to the internet, this is called shoe tossing (or "shoefiti"), and it might mark the location as a place where you can score drugs. It might also mark the end of the school year, or an upcoming marriage. It might be a more elegant form of bullying. It might also mean nothing. Yes, I am officially not with it, now that I have to look up this sort of thing. On the internet.
And I meant to tell C about when I came in the door but of course she immediately started complaining about the furniture or the blinds or our rotation around the sun or something and my mind was laser zapped.
But I did remember a few days later.
"Hey, did you see those shoes hanging on the power line over the street?" I asked, all ready to get into a conversation about it.
"Yeah yeah, those have been there for a year," C said, going up the stairs with her crossword and glass of wine.
* * * * *
Three girls of that no-idea age (could be twelve, could be fifteen, I have no idea), wearing enormous witches hats and enough spandex and big belts to make them look like deep-sea divers for Fashion Week, three girls plodding down the sidewalk."Oh, I can't stand that bitch," said one.
"I know," said another. "That's why I hope she gets knocked out."
Oh. Do girls really knock each other out these days? I've seen girls fight before, and it's always been this fury of hair and teeth and drunken line dancing. Nobody was ever in danger of being knocked out.
* * * * *
Coming down Queen, seven forty-something in the morning, beamy thin sun in my face and everything sharp and cold, when I see this girl cross the street farther down, then coming up the sidewalk towards me. Cocktail dress, tiny sweater, cigarette held out to the side. She had to use the other hand to keep pulling down her dress over her bare legs. Would not look up, not in a million years, not if her life depended on it.
I saw those shoes - bagot street? Adidas style? I always wondered what that was about - was it a prank or was there something else going on whenever you would see perfectly fine deakers, hanging from overhang wires. Now I know, or at least have a bit more to go on that before!
ReplyDelete:) thanks - love your eyes on the world
ReplyDeleteTracy: Cowdy Street. You know: where all the rough people (read: us) live. Have to check that out on Bagot, though.
ReplyDeleteJeane: tx!
I didn't know all those things about shoes either. I wonder what shoes on the side of the road means?
ReplyDeletebullet with butterfly wings.
ReplyDeletei always wondered 'bout those shoes too!moreso...i wondered how come-as i see them on many of my well worn paths-how come i havent witnessed the tossing? u cant tell me they get it first shot!
ReplyDelete