Sunday, December 17, 2006

A dancing man.

Sitting outside Bubbles, the laundromat between 119th and 120th, reading a pocket book on Degas and waiting for my clothes to dry, a man down the sidewalk was holding a phone against his ear and looking down at his feet as he lifted one foot and spun 360 degrees on the other. When he got closer, I heard music and realized he had not been talking on the phone. He had been listening to music as he practiced steps up and down the sidewalk and around the block. I looked away when he caught me staring. I looked down and pretended to read about Degas' ballet dancers.

When I looked up, he was still dancing.

Fifteen minutes later I was folding my fresh laundry when he walked by.

"Sorry I kept looking at you. It was really enjoyable watching you dance." I didn't get to tell him.

I looked again as I left the laundromat. He was using my dryer.

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