Penny for your thoughts

"Is that lipstick you're wearing?" I say as Consuela hands me a veggie dog.  I take a moment to observe the whole of her:  sleeker hair sans la scrunchie; skinny jeans with minimal muffin top....

Consuela ignores my question and hands me a napkin.

"Turn around," I tell her so I can read the label on her jeans.  She begrudgingly does a slow turn.  I notice that she is looking really good.

"How much did you pay for those?" I ask in between bites and pointing to her jeans.  She shrugs as she busies herself with cleaning the grill and adding more ice to the cooler. 

"I ferget," she says as she snaps open a can of diet Dr. Pepper and guzzles away.... like a rabid pig.

You can take the girl out of Bolivia...

"I see," I say as I stand there and watch her get more and more self-conscious by the second.

Eventually she snaps, "Wh-a-at?@?!?  What iz yer doin' here, Mia?!?  Yers iz suppose to be writing, no?" she says with flared nostrils while stomping one of her feet in --

"Are those real Michael Kors?" I ask as I crouch down to inspect her flats.

"Mia, yers iz annoyings.  Yers iz suppose to be at da work.  Consuela iz busy!" she says in a huff and turns her attention back to her cart. 

There is no one in the park.  It's the height of day.  The sun is high, and shade is at a minimum for now.  Under the Taco stand umbrella, Consuela cools herself by dropping some ice down the back of her t-shirt.

I stand there staring at her while I finish my veggie dog.  I take my time between bites in order to stretch out this unnecessary visit.  Consuela is right.  I do have work to do. But somehow, on my little walk around the neighborhood, I managed to end up here. 

Consuela turns to give me a dirty look and a moment later our eyes are locked in a dead stare.  I slowly raise my napkin to my mouth and wipe away the rest of the crumbs.  Eventually Consuela slips her Prada sunglasses down from the top of her head to end the face off.  For now, I have won.

I take a step closer to the cart to throw my napkin in the garbage, before turning around to leave.  Consuela ignores me.  She's had enough of my drop ins. 

"Bye," I say as I make my way back towards the path that will lead me to the street, and then eventually back home. 

"See yers," she says quietly under her breath as a few meters of distance grows between us.  As I round the park I notice a soft-faced man in shabby clothes.  He gives me a smile, as he walks past me heading towards the Taco Stand.  I take a moment to observe the holes in his shoes, and pants, and t-shirt.  On his back he carries a backpack with a small mesh pocket on the side closest to me.  In the pocket are a trove of shiny pennies.  Each of them glint wildly under the noon sun. 

I smile to myself as I watch him walk towards Consuela with his collection of pennies.  Despite all his misfortunes, I admire that he is able to find a small wonder in this world -- a penny collection.

I try not to think about the fact that he was someone's baby at one point in time, or that somewhere along the way before life became too complicated, that he might have had hopes and dreams.  I wait to watch as Consuela hands him a soft-shelled burrito; and a moment later he offers her some of his pennies -- which Consuela refuses.

"Good girl," I say quietly as I walk away.

A moment later, an idea takes full-swing as it coils its way down my spine and shimmies towards each of my hands waiting to be written with hungry anticipation.  The man and his pennies has blessed me without knowing it; and as I pick up my pace and scurry towards home I am content in knowing that we have each, in some small way, made a difference in each other's lives today.