Doubts, Groundbreaking &Nine Cockroaches

Did I apply the payment to that reservation before I left the office? Yeah, I did, I think. No, I did. And Mr. Rodriguez? Hope they give him his visa. What if they don´t?
War and the travel industry: not a great combination. Hurricanes, either. "Are these tickets refundable, just in case I don´t travel? But I´m safe here. Maybe I´ll put off that trip til next year." Ok, stop thinking about work.

Supposedly Sandra is not doing well. But there's always the chance she might get better, right? I hate hospitals. Too many sick people. I´d rather wait out here watching the cockroaches searching for food. Back home you don´t see cockroaches, the gutters are closed. How do cockroaches run so quick. They must understand the malice my shoes have for them. They seem to. Their speed makes them more repulsive. I´ve already killed three in just a couple minutes. Ok, stop hunting cockroaches! Go lean on a pole like the rest of the weirdos hanging around the hospital.

The umbrella salesman looks beat. He could use a shower too. Mostly what he could use is a good rest. He´s trying to get a quick nap on the sidewalk near the back entrance of the hospital. Oh God, we made eye contact. Here he comes. No, I don´t want to buy an umbrella. A watch? Or a watch! No, thank you. His sidewalk is beckoning him. Besides, he can´t leave his merchandise unattended.

The smell of freshly dug dirt in the vacant lot around the block smelled so good this morning walking to the bus. It was sweet, earthy, but cool in the hot morning sun. Wonder who the new neighbors are. That lot´s been vacant for a long time. Vacant, but owned. And cared for. Somebody keeps the grass cut. Are they adding on or building a new house? I was so jealous of the guys working in that lot. I'd change places with them in a second. I miss manual labor. You certainly enjoy your lunch more. I would like to dig a ditch, well, for a day maybe, taking breaks whenever with no real schedule to stick to. The shovel handle would shred my soft hands into blisters in about 5 minutes. The smell of freshly turned dirt always reminds me of construction. Building the apartments, working for Wohlsen or for Howard. The workout was always fun. Sweating so much that you clean your body out of everything.

Gotcha! trying to sneak up on me huh? Number four wasn´t as quick. Maybe I´m quicker now after the first three. Couldn´t just wait in the car and listen to the radio. No, I had to go cockroach hunting to pass the time. And of course I had to keep count. Weirdo.

At my feet the contents of a typical gutter. Cigarette butts, candy wrappers. An old piece of a newspaper with a picture of a pretty latin singer. Can´t remember her name. A small piece of paper with the handwritten words “Room for rent” followed by a telephone number. The 2 cut off like they were writing it on the edge of a table and fell off. A white button, probably someone from the hospital staff, a paper clip and lollypop stick. People dropping off meals to nurses and staff that work at night. The guy sitting down half way down the street is as leary of me as I am of him. That´s how it should be. The only people that come up to you straight away are either salesman, Jehovah´s witnesses or thieves.

After walking to the corner I get a reminder that the streets of San José are dangerous at night. Two motorcyle police coast by side by side with uzzies draped over their backs in no hurry as they look down every side street. They make eye contact as I make sure not to look away so they won´t be suspicious of me. They shouldn´t be but I always think about not being suspicious when cops ride by.

Better stay closer to the car. Getting robbed on the corner seems and feels more likely. The walk back to the car spots another disgusting legged blob scurrying across the street.. Hah! Number five! And six! Didn´t see your wingman there. The guy sitting against the building quickly looks away to avoid my eyes. I´ve apparantly convinced him I´m crazy and decides he needs to find another place to sit down on the deserted street outside the hospital.

How long have I been waiting out here? Too long. Why don´t I just sit in the car and listen to some tunes? Na, I think I ´d rather lean on the post just opposite the entrance of the hospital. I can see into the long, narrow hall way until I see a set of stairs, just beyond where everyone has their time cards on the wall. The guard seems content at his lonely, quiet desk. Wonder how much he makes a month?

In twenty years, will I be living comfortably? Rich people don´t work for their money, their money works for them.. How do I get there? Can I get there? Do I want to get there? Yeah, I do. Where am I going? Will I get there soon? What if I don´t like it once I´m there? Guess everybody wants to live comfortably. Seeing how little you can live on gets old.

Its cool tonight. I really don´t even mind waiting. Never have. My mind always finds something to do...Or my feet. Number 7! I could be mistaken but it looked like number seven was mourning Number...3. Yeah, number three...Do cockroaches mourn the dead? How close are family members that number in the trillions?

The umbrella man sits up and lights another cigarette. I can see his tired, wrinkled face as he winces at the painful pleasure of his first puff. A second later his face disapears into the night. Wonder how many he smokes a day? Does he ever actually sell an umbrella?. Wonder how many more cockroaches I´ll kill tonight...