Stylin'

As I walked to the train station from school, a man wearing about 5 crosses in various materials dangling from his neck, a nice wool jacket and a brilliant green scarf around his neck said, "Hiya, Mama," as he passed me on the sidewalk.  I thought I recognized him as the homeless man who used to "live" on the corner of  17th Street and Callowhill, so I slowed down and responded cheerily, "Hey, how are you doing?"  He began to bounce along with me, making a total u-turn and heading in my direction.  I looked at his coat and his jaunty green scarf and noticed that one of his crosses was a large glass cross.  I told him he was looking quite spiffy today, and he looked down at my pink stockings and then at my red shirt (I dress in the dark of the morning and sometimes don't get it quite right...).  He grinned that decidedly high but compelling grin and said, "You are looking pretty nice yourself!"  We bounced a few more steps and then he looked straight at me and said, "Oh, yea, we be stylin' today!"

I laughed and kept on my way, knowing what was coming next.  When he asked if I had a little money for him, I said lightly, "Nope, but I'll bring you a sandwich tomorrow."

He smiled, turned around and began to walk away; He turned around, looked at me and said earnestly, "You be around here then?"

"You betcha!" I said, already planning what kind of bread I would use for his sandwich tomorrow.  I almost skipped to the train, the little encounter with my new friend filling me with joy, not that he was probably homeless and hungry, but that he was so spectacular.  His glee, his costume and his forthrightness made me spin.  I knew he probably wanted money for all sorts of nefarious activities, or at least I was supposed to know that.  But I didn't care.  I could bring him a sandwich tomorrow, and we'd be stylin' again.  I looked forward to that.