Reasons Like Seasons, They Constantly Change. And Seasons of Last Year, Like Reasons, Have Floated Away

A young woman was sitting on one of Washington Square Park’s many wooden benches, talking avidly to her friend, who was wearing a wide-rimmed beige hat that bobbed gently with the passing breeze. They were both bent over a fashion magazine, flipping through its glossy pages, and dog-earing their favorite parts. It was sunny and around lunchtime, and as they sat together on a bench, they were approached by an older man wearing tattered clothes, fingerless gloves and a red bandana to hold back his tousled hair.
“Ma’am,” he said, “would you happen to have any extra food?”
The two women were taken aback, and turned to look at each other. The woman in the hat then turned back to the man and shook her head.
“No, I don’t.”
The man looked at her friend. “How about you, ma’am?”
The woman smirked and raised an eyebrow. “No, neither of us have food.”
The man remained still for a moment, then nodded his head. They expected him to walk away at this point, but to their confusion, he remained standing a few paces away from them for what seemed like a solid minute and a half. During this time, the two women didn’t speak, and awkwardly tried to ignore his gaze by turning their attention back to the magazine. They flipped through the pages noisily and quickly, hoping the noise might cause him to scatter. Finally the man slowly backed up and walked in the other direction. When he was out of earshot, the two women laughed out loud.
“What the hell was that all about?” said the woman in the hat. “Doesn’t he understand that no means no?”
“I’m telling you,” said her friend, “the people in this park get crazier every damn day. What nerve!”
“You know what I noticed about homeless people around here? They try to play on your emotions. They stumble over and bother us for food, and once we refuse, they act as if standing there all sad and mute would get us to change our minds. I’m sorry, but there’s no reason for anyone to be homeless. Walk into a fucking McDonalds and get a janitor job, how hard is it?”
The woman laughed. “Seriously. It’s sad to see people in that situation, but truth be told, they did it to themselves. And then they have the audacity to ask me for food? Why would I waste the food I bought with my hard-earned money on a complete stranger?”
“I know. And it’s not like we’re rolling in resources ourselves.”
They shrugged, and the woman in the hat turned back to the magazine. While she did this, her friend looked at a group of squirrels scuttling around the pavement in front of her, their jerking bodies moving in erratic circles. Smiling at their crazy dance, she reached into her purse and pulled out a bag of peanuts, and began to toss them outward to feed the squirrels.




- LAP etc.