The Trial of Stranger man


Written by: CheesyBoy



Disk error? What fucking error? It’s a disk, you read it yesterday, and you can read it today. I know for a fact that you not only could you read it yesterday; I know that I have not opened you and touched the disk in the intervening period. Well fuck you CD player, I guess I won’t listen to the Velvet Underground on my short walk to work.

Exiting the parking structure I see a strange assemblage of tents on Main Street. They blocked off part of the road I used to get to the hotel I park at. I watch as workers scramble to put up more. What is it they are doing?

“This is a fucking city not a school.” I turn to look who said it as my lack of headphones makes desperate for sound, though his rough voice and sloppy annunciation are an unfortunate surrogate.

Then I notice the curious lack of people around both him and me. Who was he talking too? Me? I don’t know him why is he talking to me?

“What?” My curiosity breaks ahead of my common since, if I had just ignored him then there would have been no chance for a conversation, but I have now participated. Conversations require two people, and in my foolishness, I became number two.

“This damn thing is ruining the whole city. That coffee vendor is getting no work because of this thing.”

My thoughts differ greatly from my reply; in my thoughts I point out that it isn’t even 8am yet, and that may be why Mr. Coffee hasn’t sold much yet. In my thoughts I also wonder how narrow a view of the whole city the man has if Mr. Coffee’s business being affected is comparable to the complete economic collapse of Rochester.

That is what I think; but I do not say any of that, because an argument would require a great deal of interaction. I say “Yeah, it took me like 25 minutes to get around it this morning.” It was actually like 5, but I’m empathizing here.

Why did he start this conversation with me? He doesn’t know me, so what did I do that made him think it was okay to talk to me? No, it’s never the victims fault, unless you are wearing a mini-skirt then you are just asking for it.

“Yeah, I don’t know where they get off doing this.” said stranger man.

Damn, my ploy to shorten the conversation with empathy failed. I hoped that if he realized we agreed he would let me pass. Well if we must have a conversation then at least I might be able to make it a walking one. I begin to walk and ask him “What is it anyway?” He follows me, and I start looking for a door that I “have” to take.

Well it was nice talking to you, but I must go into this loan office, or coffee shop, or apartment building or what ever the hell this building is.

“It’s a food fair thing.” His knowledge of it was certainly impressive. I usually reserve judgment until I can refer to it as something more specific then a “thing.” But a food thing, maybe I’ll get lucky and not have to pay for lunch. That would be a nice surprise.

“You’re ruining the whole city.” Wait now I’m ruining the city? I’m being perfectly civil here to a person I don’t know, I am by no means ruining anything.

“The WHOLE city?” Who was that? A lady that is preparing for the food thing and stranger man is talking to her. “How are we ruining the whole city?” Yes, thank you food thing lady, engage stranger man, and I will run.

Or walk away quickly. It’s probably going to be the walking one.