50 Cents

After my daily routine of running a mile or more I make use of the cash that I still have. I rest for a while and watch some school kid chase their bus. And others just making out on a bench. (of course I don't stare at that) I make my way through the crowd of pedestrians and go to Popeye's. It used to smell so nasty, which brings back other memories... I remember when I asked some guy why it smelled so bad and he said it was some chemical release. (Like if he knew what he was talking about.) A poor and homeless Colombian man asked me for some change, he was old and looked ready to die. So I was kind enough to give him 50 cents from my wallet.

In the line to buy the chicken, the aroma of the spicy chicken filled with barbecue sauce filled the new scented room. But it was until it was my turn to order that the lady told me I was 50 cents short. I stare at the homeless guy through the glass windows and I tell the lady its OK that Ill go somewhere else. So I walk out and go next door to Subways. Then their I could buy a good club sandwich. After gobbling up the sandwich I go outside and smell the fuel coming from the buses and all the cars passing by. (Wow this is messed up) I make some calls like changing dentists appointments and calling other friends to tell me whats the homework.

And after that the homeless guy comes up to me again. I could clearly tell he is Colombian because he is waving a small Colombian flag and speaks that way too. He starts blabbing about how the FARC are kidnapping people and he and his family need money to save others. And that some U.S. oil company is planning to build some oil field on their land, which are the U'wa people. I understood well because I know some things that are going on over their but then I walked away and pretended I was on the phone. JA how did he get all the way here, I thought.