Nicollet

I had to do an unexpected run to the Target store downtown. It's about two blocks away from my work. I cruised through the skyway and got slightly nauseated by the food smells. The skyways are a bit humid in this weather. When the skyways are warm, i know it's definitely warm outside.

On the way back i decided to walk outside. It's a nice quick way to get some fresh air and wake myself up before sitting myself down in my drab cubicle. I took the escalator down to Target's lobby. I was slightly surprised there weren't the usual gaggle of people sitting on the window ledges. Then i remembered, it is warm outside!

I wheel myself through the revolving door and wham! i'm outside in some seriously nice weather. I step to the curb. I watch as a man on the cellphone hugs a blind man around the shoulders to help him across the street. I assumed the cellphone-guy knew the blind man. They both make it across the street, up the curb, across the short sidewalk, and to the very same revolving door i walked through.

Now, i am not one to watch or stare. However, I couldn't help but glance back to check on the progress of the blind man and the cellphone-guy. The cellphone-guy carefully guided the man into the revolving door. Then i looked back at the street. Then i looked back again, the cellphone-guy was still standing outside talking on his phone... The blind man had made it through the door and was just standing there. That's where i got confused on whether or not the cellphone-guy knew the blind man.

I crossed the street. I hear singing. I look to my right, and standing next to a cement planter is the first "beggar". He is staring at a sheet of paper. He is testing his voice quietly as if he is attempting to read his "music". The singing is not coming from him. His metal bucket carefully set out with half of it filled with change. The metal bucket has a sign, but i couldn't read it. Too close to the ground.

I chug along, name badge flapping in the wind, bag banging against my leg. The singing continues and gets louder. The second "beggar" is sitting on a planter. Beautiful voice echoing off the buildings, "This little light of mine!" slapping his knee in time. A woman sits next to him nodding her head in time. He has a bucket too. It has a sign, but i can't read it. I'm moving too fast.

I'm halfway down the block, and glancing down, a man is sitting next to the bus shelter. He is short, and has one lonely tooth showing. I think that was his last one. He has a cardboard sign he is holding. I can't read it. I looked the other direction well before i passed him.

Home stretch and i'm almost to my building's block. I see a clown. He is sitting on a cement planter. He is looking down. Has the white mouth painted in a frown. Red nose, derby hat, suit jacket, and dress pants. Very much like a hobo. He has a sign hanging around his neck. A pink sign that is laminated in clear tape. "LAID OFF!" was all i could read. The print was too small for me to read the rest.

I cross the street. Smell the familiar cigarette smoke of all the people "on break". I walk through the doors of my building. It's warm and humid. Up the escalator i go to the lobby of my building. All i can think about is, "what's for lunch?"...

Age

Well, i took my 87 year old grandmother to her friend's birthday party. This friend turned 90(i think). It was an interesting time. I was merely my grandmother's driver. Since my grandmother doesn't drive, i brought her to the party. She hasn't seen her gal friends from church in quite some time because of her not being able to drive. I knew i would soon be left behind once we entered the room of party goers.

So, i mingled. Well, tried to. Thank goodness for coffee. I sipped on coffee, sat at my grandmother's side and just kind of listened. There were quite a few things that have changed and some things that haven't changed in regards to etiquette.

What has changed? Remember when it wasn't polite to ask a lady's age? Remember a lady never TOLD you her correct age. Well honey, age was the badge to wear that day and by-george, it was ACCURATE! I never heard so many, "well i'm 94!" and various other age announcements made in conversations. So, that has changed. They were even asking me how old i was. I don't care one way or another so i told them... 32. I have lived a third of their lifespan.

What hasn't changed is eating. You can't have a birthday party without cake. And of course you can't have a real birthday cake with out HUGE frosting-flowers. I am not a HUGE frosting-flower kind of gal and of course, i get stuck with a piece that has a HUGE frosting-flower on it. Well, in my head it doesn't matter if i get the flower or not, i just won't eat. WRONG!

For one thing, the ladies i sat with ate their cake faster than me! I'm a fast eater... Another thing, their plates were CLEAN. Not a lick of frosting or cake crumb left behind. Then there is me. I'm eating my cake, carefully chopping off the HUGE frosting-flower. I'm done. My grandmother looks over at me and says, "Your not gonna eat your flower?" I replied, "well, uh, it is a lot of frosting." That was the wrong answer.

My grandmother didn't tell me it was the wrong answer but she slid my plate over and whacked off half the flower and ate it. It was at this point were i had taken careful notice of every one's plate at the table...and i ate the flower. For the sake of my grandmother's dignity, i ate the flower.

The Bus Stop

I think i had another one of those "fate" moments again. I tried to leave work a little earlier than i normally would have. I was hoping to pick Olivia up early enough to get home, get stuff done early, and get her to bed early so i could just sit. Well, i was able to do all of the above even though i didn't get a chance to leave as early as i wanted. This is where the fate thing kicks in.

I headed down Hennepin, hit 2nd st. (?) and walked down a block to catch the bus. No one was around! It was kind of amazing! Well, at least on Hennepin no one was around. When i got to my stop, there were a few people standing there. The one guy was there that catches the bus the same time i do so i was assured that my bus hadn't arrived yet.

I'm standing there and i hear this voice behind me, "is this a line or somethin' for the bus?" I turned to face a woman with grayed hair but appeared to be no more than 50. I replied, "Nah, we're just waiting here." She responded, "okay good. I never can tell if i'm getting into a line or not." I agreed with her. Then she proceeded with, "these buses are crazy. this is my 4th bus transfer and i have two more to go. If i miss the connector i have to wait an hour for the next one." Me, "Geeze! No kiddin'? that's a lot!" She replies, "Yeah. I came from Abott Hospital. I been runnin' around trying to catch all these buses. I just got done with radiation and most people can just go home but man... Praise God i can still do this." and she laughs! I said, "well, you were just makin' sure that radiation was circulating through your body real well." She laughs. I said, "I keep waitin' for us to get a subway like in NY..." and she said, "nah that ain't ever goin' to happen." I said, "and people complain about the Light Rail and they don't want it in there neighborhood and i think, seriously? I would LOVE to have it in my area." She laughed and said, "I know! People don't be carin' about the environment is what it is." and she shakes her head. Then i said, "We were just talkin' about this at work. I said it's crazy that California is passing all of these laws about the environment and here they are driving on these 8 lane freeways with no mass transit!" She laughed again and said, "Yeah well, there are some real beautiful areas down there and the weather is so nice. But you know, they have them earthquakes and landslides etc. Once you go down there, you don't want to come back." I said, "That's probably why i haven't visited there yet." There was a minute or two of comfortable silence as we were both thinking our thoughts and then she says, "This is the second time i've been through this. Got my second surgery coming up on the 23rd." Then she says, "I got lung cancer." and then she was quick to say while shaking her head, "and i don't smoke." I said, "Aw i'm sorry to hear." She replies, "eh, well..." It was on the tip of my tongue to say well, you look really good, i would never have guessed, but then she started talking again. "I got these dark circles under my eyes. I developed them with all this running around, being tired, and the radiation." I said, "eh, you can hardly tell. You look real good." She said, "eh, well..." At this point my bus was pulling up and i said, "well, this is my bus. you have a good rest of the day." She replied, "yeah, thanks."

She looked very healthy to me. She wasn't frail. She had long hair and was dressed well (meaning it was obvious she wasn't a nutcase). It's weird how i ended up on that corner and she ended up there and we talked. Hopefully i made her feel a little better by talking with her. It seems to me that if she was bus hopping to get home, it was just her fighting this.

A Pair of Shoes

I was running late this morning. The great thing about modern technology is that it's handy when it works. I have a "keyless" car, meaning i push a button and the car starts. Well, theoretically as long as the key fob is on me in the car. When technology doesn't work, time becomes lost. The key fob didn't quite work so i was delayed while figuring out the manual workaround on getting the car to go.

(Now, i have said this a billion times. There is always a reason why i run late at certain times.)

This delayed my drive to the park and ride. I ended up catching a later bus than usual. There were just a few people on the bus and so i took my usual spot in the back by the door. I noticed that there was a plastic bag wedged under "my" seat.

The thought occurred to me, do i kick it? see what it's in it? do i dare touch it because what if it's "unsafe"? You know all of those posters we see about, "if a package is left behind... don't touch it"? So i had a moment of indecision. I kicked the bag. Nothing. I then made the logical choice of sitting across the aisle from my seat. I didn't want the hassle of someone telling me i left a bag behind when it wasn't mine.

Well, i sat there in my new seat. I thought, you know, i should just tell the bus driver there is a package back here. So i went up and told her and she came back and looked in the bag. It was a pair of men's shoes. Someone is probably tromping around work in their snow boots right now.

I guess the reason for me being late this morning was to discover those shoes.

The Skyway

I have finally discovered how to get from the Lumber Exchange building to my building via the skyway. When i get off the bus, i round the corner of Gay 90's (narrowly missing two men sweeping the sidewalk free of cigarette butts) and hike down two blocks to my work...outside. Well, it's chilly folks and i had to figure out how to get to my building inside!

I bravely crossed the street. I spotted a lady going into the same door i wanted to go in. I followed her! HA! Up the stairs i went and into an odd looking lobby. Up another set of stairs i went, i wound my way through a short hall, and i entered the main lobby of the Lumber Exchange building. The elevator lobby is as it was when first built. Green cooper wall medallions on a brass wall above the elevator doors. Marble floor. Wood with glass revolving doors.

I would never have guessed it was like this inside the building. The exterior is just massive "bricks" in clay color but inside it's another world. Up two flights of marble steps and i find myself on my way to the skyway.

The skyway level, in most buildings, are huge hallways that are wide and noisy. This was different. The "skyway" in this building was like walking through a normal office floor, except no one was there. A secret snack shop was tucked away in an unlikely spot. Signs posted on the wall stating business names. No glass store fronts, no big store signs, just painted sheetrock walls and random doors.

It's a very unused portion of the skyway and part of me felt like i was intruding in this quite stretch of halls. Part of me wondered if i was going the right way. As i wound my way through the halls and went through numerous doors, i kept wondering if i was really supposed to be where i was. Lit signs hanging on the walls assured me i was heading in the right direction.

I came up to another elevator lobby. Marbled floors, hotel-looking elevators... I rounded the corner, lo and behold, there was the huge skyway hall leading into City Center. I take this skyway back and forth to the bus stop and work each day now. Everytime i walk through the door heading towards the Lumber Exchange, i feel like i'm entering another time zone, another world, a quiet world that has been forgotten and idly watches the few "passengers" make their way through it's system.

Not Once... But Twice!

Yesterday i had to run an errand to Target. Working downtown certainly has its advantages when a Target store is within walking distance. I find it a great destination to clear my head from work "stuff".

As i am buzzing through the store, i took a shortcut through the Men's department. Lo and behold i encountered my first tattooed face of this year. Last year i encountered a man, who was in his 60s(?) with a tattooed and pierced face, at the Farmer's Market.

I am always fascinated with why people make the decision to tattoo their face. It's not just a small design, it's an intricate design that usually covers the entire face. In the case of the 60 year old, it was a great example of tattooes-gone-wrinkled. In the case of the Men's Dept. guy, he was fairly young... 30s?

I often thought of asking them, why did you do it and do you have a job? Who hires you? I don't have a problem with it but i think other's may be intimidated to see a tattoo faced applicant. I don't stare... perhaps i'm being defiant in their eyes by not looking or staring at their faces.

Walking home i saw my second tattooed face of the year! In the same day! This one had more "highlights" than an all-over facial tattoo. This person had a hat on so i'm not really sure what the entire face looked like. Again, i didn't stare, i just keep moving... and wondering... what do they do for a living? what was their purpose in tattooing the face? What type of attention are they looking for? Hmmmm...

The Squirrel

The whole reason i entertained the thought of blogging was because of a squirrel. I witness strange things and i would tell myself, "you need to get a blog going to document this". Now that i have started a blog, i should now reveal the story behind the story.

The buses have been rerouted downtown due to construction. This means i'm walking further and outside to catch the bus. I'm pretty sure i've told that part a few times. I usually walk down a block on 3rd St. rather than waiting on Hennepin. I end up on a block that has a marble wall for half the block, and then building for the rest of the block. The only break in this marble wall and building, is the entrance to a parking garage, otherwise there are no doors or anything...

I "park" myself generally on one side of the garage entrance. It annoys me to no-end to stand bunched up with everyone waiting for their buses. I prefer to leave some space on the sidewalk for pedestrians... Anywho...

It was a mild fall day and there was a lot of traffic on 3rd st. All of a sudden there is a squirrel that managed to cross the 3rd st. to our side. It was straight out of a cartoon. I could hear is scritching its claws on the sidewalk as it skidded into the marble wall. The poor squirrel bounced off the wall, almost ended up back in the street, tried to go up a tree, went back down the tree and climbed up a lady's pant leg.

Did you get that? The squirrel climbed up this poor lady's pant leg. The lady was wearing brown pants. I can see where the squirrel got confused! The squirrel, realizing it's error after the woman screams, scurries back down and up the "correct" tree. It latched onto a branch and ran over the marble wall to it's final destination.

Now i'm not sure whose heart was beating faster... the squirrel's or the lady's? And there you have it. The story behind the story.