the happy man

I was planting a tree with my sister outside of yumyum noodle bar a few weeks ago when a young man walked by, giggling and gleeful, talking and gesticulating to the voices in his head. “He’s always that happy” Nina said, “but sometimes he walks out into the street in front of cars. That scares me.”
              I saw him later, two miles down the road. He was bopping along, red dreadlocks bouncing about, still carrying the bag he had earlier, and still engaged in the vibrant interactive monologue with his invisible, perhaps even sentient friend, or with God.
              “He’s always that happy.” When my mind goes, if it goes before my body, when it goes, that’s where I want it to go.


but the dentist has reclining chairs

Today at pt a woman was effusing about the Toyota dealership in Littleton. Included in your stay is a wifi lounge, lunch voucher, and a gym. She says she shows up at 11:30, works out, cools down in the lounge, and then has lunch. I think the Camry needs an oil change but now I'm realizing how pathetic my life sounds when a Grand Day Out is at a fucking car dealership.