All I Leave Behind Me Is Only What I Found

P took a road trip to see a jam band music festival with this brother in Scranton.  I texted him that New York had air quality alerts due to the heavy stench of old Burkenstocks coming over from the Northwest.  Old man hippie stank thick like a fog.  I thought it was funny.

Meanwhile, rain hit the area hard and taking the subway gave me the opportunity to finally try this new little Mexican joint under the overpass.  I had no cash and the morning cook didn't know how to operate the credit card machine.  At a stand still he decided to let me slide like Wimpy, promising to pay for my tacos another day.

These times are when I feel so 'unMexican', so uncool.  Some crazy hybrid awkward geek mutant that can't speak Spanish or even convey a simple promise.  My sister busted me right away when I told her the story.  She knew I would become way too chatty nervously trying to explain that I would definitely come back that afternoon to pay.  I ended up sounding like Miss Jane in one of her screwball episodes.  What a nerd turd I can be sometimes.  It's a leftover from my Midwestern days where if you ever did anything wrong in society as a Mexican child you must immediately become convincingly trustworthy and sound.  In other words you never wanted to start any trouble or make waves.  Certainly never be caught unable to pay at check out.  My mom was big on always being presentable and not giving anyone ammunition to become hostile. I took this to heart.

But this guy looked like he could care less if he ever saw me again,  Apparently old lady goobers aren't captivating.  Made me feel even worse. My dorkiness aside, its as if people are less connected every year, less human, less feeling.  Less moved by each other.  We're moving too far away from our natural animal communication abilities.  Not many people look you in your eyes anymore. Do you notice that?  There is a lot to see in those peepers, for me anyway.  He had no idea how psyched I was to finally try this place.  How I thought it was so brave to start a business in this corner.  How happy it made me for them that it most certainly paid off.  How the rain made this moment possible in a sweet chance encounter that made me feel even more linked to this man, making my tacos.

Later, after work I walked back to pay my debt and to try another offering for my dinner.  This time with more social armor up.  This morning it was steak, so I bought two chicken tacos. I waved at him,  happy to see he was still working but the gesture was not acknowledged, although he motioned to the cashier that I owed from this morning.

Later I sat in my apartment enjoying the chicken taco with a huge iced lemon seltzer considering how we're failing more every day at humanity.  If you can't conjure a little love with a simple taco exchange on a rainy day then I fear the end is surely not far behind.