Mia and Jimmy

I was breezing by this group of five or six young people by Bethune and West when one of them said, "Would you like a flower?" I tried not to make eye contact (even with my sunglasses on) and gruffly walked by. I was in a mode that was somewhere between, "NYC Man," and "Too Cool For School." One of them said something about me just taking it just to make them happy and then I could throw it away when they were gone, but I carried on until I heard someone say something about the YashMat. And then I had to stop.

She told me that "Jimmy" is a nickname. She's not like that hit song, "A Girl Named Jimmy." I didn't ask why they were giving flowers away, but I took the flower they had offered me (and not the one that Mia, I hope that was your name, was holding). It was red, and I didn't throw it away, but stuck it behind my ear where it sat for the rest of the afternoon.

I really need to get over myself. I really need to remind myself that maybe the young people offering strangers flowers aren't freaks, weirdos, or cultists ("cultists?" what year is this?). Maybe they're just sincerely nice people who unlike me, haven't grown up with the idea that strangers are to be met with suspicion and a wary eye.

I wanted to talk to them more but they were done with me, the flower/photograph exchange complete.

That's what I get.