So, he sits in the park, smiling, talking to strangers. Not many on the streets of Burlington, despite its beauty and grandeur. People live elsewhere and have to work. Jack says he did as little as possible. Worked in a cemetery. I asked him what he was doing sitting in Battery Park on a chilly fall day? “Waiting for two women in bikinis to take me home.”
I could have waited with Jack, but the second girl probably had been spoken for by the General.
End of Summer. Atonal kind of day. Chilly following a blast of summer. Lots of people without places to stay, wondering what will happen when the weather turns frosty. But, for today, and the last couple of days, just find a place to crash and try to relax.
Eric didn’t look like he would make it. But he has resolve. Won’t let anyone help him. It’s there when he wants it, but he doesn’t know he needs it. Not sure it will make any difference or that he will survive.
Probably want a Ben and Jerry’s, but they weren’t open.
Battery Park offers a view of the Lake and the sky. A favorite spot for Rudyard Kipling when he lived in VT.
Find a bench on the Battery. Protect your things and your skin.
Asleep in mid thought. Had a place to sleep. Dozed in public.
Near a bathroom facing the Lake. First time I felt threatened. Dogs running free. One kid said, “…, retard …, I love fucking up old men.” Not very Burlington of him, eh. I got scared and left.
Hadn’t seen him around since election day. Just sitting in Battery Park, I asked what he was up to? “Looking for a wife,” he said.
I reminded him of our last meeting when he said he was the “laziest man in Burlington.” “Oh, I had a job. worked in St. Joseph’s Cemetery. Once saw a cop have sex with a woman in a car.”
“So what upset you more, the cop not working or the sex?”
“The sex.” He better not tell this to whomever he attracks to be his date for the day.
Just some park space to spread out in. Whisper escapes.