Month: September 2010

[scene one]

Asheville may be the only place I know that can turn a hula hoops event into something slightly tamer than pole dancing. Walking to the Transit Center earlier this week, I observed quite a large crowd of people with hula hoops at Pritchard Park. A deejay whipped up some trance vibes and the crowd responded with hips and hoops. For the most part, the event seemed quite family friendly with the exception of a few women whose performance with hula hoops approached the idea of *ahem* public art.

[scene two]

The next evening I walked along Patton Avenue — again heading toward the Transit Center. A guy leaning on the rail outside the Asheville Yacht Club with a Pabst Blue Ribbon can in his right hand stared across the street as if watching a tired rerun of That 70s Show. I didn’t think much of it. Maybe he had a lousy day and was trying to unwind. Maybe he was waiting for someone to join him and was just killing time. When the signal lamp changed I crossed the street and realized that the guy outside the Asheville Yacht Club was watching two young women making out at one of the tables on the street outside Thirsty Monk’s Pub. Who needs a television? or an iPhone? Just grab a seat at the rail outside the Asheville Yacht Club, order a PBR, and watch the wildlife at Thirsty Monk’s Pub. The whole scene made me feel oddly lugubrious.

[scene three]

Thursday morning the sunrise bruised the sky with purple and red clouds. The air echoed its coolness and as I walked from the bus stop to Starbucks. After purchasing a pumpkin muffin and a tall bold coffee, I walked across the parking lot toward the office. I noticed a car with all its windows open about an inch or so. It seemed trashed. Piles of plastic bags with clothes, stuffed toys, fast food restaurant bags, and shoes cluttered the interior of the car and seemed to reach the window. As I bit off a morsel of muffin I realized, at second glance, that a woman, man and child were sleeping in the car. What appeared to be plastic bags were black sleeping bags that were unzipped and pulled up to their necks like quilts. The woman was in the driver’s seat with the seat reclined back as fast is it will go. The man was sleeping on his right side facing the woman. His seat was also reclined, but not as much as the woman’s. The child slept in an a car seat with a dark blanket pulled up to the neck. I paused, but thought a third glance would be wrong and might wake them.

The sun still hid behind the mountains to the east as I finished eating the muffin while standing in the parking lot. They’re story must be interesting, I thought to myself as I stuffed the paper muffin wrapping in my pocket. It was still early. No one was in the office yet. I hesitated for a few seconds, looked back at the car in the parking lot with a sleeping family, took a sip of coffee and walked up the steps to the office.