A woman was parallel parking a giant SUV on Walnut Street tonight with the door open, leaning out of the car as she backed up to make sure she wasn’t getting too close to the car behind her. She was also talking on a cell phone clutched between her ear and shoulder. She had a giant purse in her lap and it tumbled into the street as she leaned out of her car. “Hold on,” she told the person on the line, as she bent down to grab the purse.
A young woman sat on a bench nearby playing an acoustic guitar, shivering as a stiff, cold breeze blew through the street. “My heart is an open door,” she sang. Her guitar case sat open on the bench beside her, and it contained at least ten dollars in tips, plus change.
I found this ad nailed to a phone pole, but the URL didn’t provide much explanation.
At the Shadyside Market District, there was a sale on jackfruit, these giant fuzzy oblongs from Mexico. There was also a sale on oranges. One woman bought two large bags stuffed full of oranges. The woman behind her said, “I see you’re taking advantage of the sale.”
“Oh,” the first woman said, needing a second to realize what the she meant. “Yeah.”
“They’re still good this time of year,” the second woman said.
“Still juicy and sweet.”
The woman behind me in line said, “Excuse me.” I turned around. “One of your cherry tomatoes has mold on it. You might want to get a new container.” I checked the carton. A small gray sweater covered one of the tomatoes, but hadn’t spread to the others yet.
“I’ll probably just throw that one away,” I said.
“My daughter said, ‘No way I would eat that.’”
As I was leaving, I saw two little girls with identical white moustaches glued to their upper lips. The cashier gave them a sidelong glance and they burst into giggles.