You meet a character who cannot keep his private thoughts private. |
"Excuse me?" I wasn't sure of what I'd just heard. "I said, you have the ugliest baby I've ever seen." Cynthia looked at me, eyes wide, mouth agape with fascination at this old man's nerve. I stepped down off the edge of the curb toward the well dressed octogenarian sporting a monocle and a cane. "That's..." I started, more confused than upset. "Looks like a damn turtle mated with an anteater." He cut me off. I looked down at my little girl, nestled comfortably in her stroller, oblivious to the man's insensivity. I mean, she did have a longer-than-average nose..but she was mine. Mine and Cynthia's little angel. "Look asshole, just mind your own fucking business." Cynthia chimed in, following me off the edge of the curb, leaving the stroller alone on the sidewalk. I stepped between them. "Let's just go." I said. This was escalating quickly. We turned our backs to the man, who was now studying Cynthia's rear with an amused expression. "And you must have at least a hundred stretch marks. I bet you resent that. I'm sure your husband does too." That was it. I lurched around, arms in the air, ready to let him have it. But he was on one knee, top hat in his hand, bowing his head in apology. "I'm sorry...I don't know what's gotten into me! I'd thought this had passed." I raised an eyebrow. He placed his hat on his head and stood. "Its something of a problem...sort of a tourettes. I can't seem to keep my opinions to myself. Here, have this. Please forgive me." He calmly placed a $20 bill on the ground, and with a tip of his hat and flick of his cane, he strutted off into the street, toward an idle taxi near the corner. I stooped down and picked up the bill. Cynthia looked at me and shrugged. "Lunch?" "Sure." I paused, watching the man get in the cab and lean forward to speak to the cabbie. "Works for me." |