Salt and Pepper Man
The man in front of me has grey salt and pepper hair, so long that he has to tie it up into a tiny little pony tail at the back of his head. And yet there’s a giant bald spot in the center of his aging dome. He looks around him everywhere, as though trying to find the quickest way through the crowd, and then before he can get across the road, the traffic lights stop him dead in his tracks. He looks around him hastily, waiting for the traffic to heed his panic and relieve his stress, or at least relieve his spastic motions. As soon as the lights turn red, before the green man says to walk, he’s off. And I’m standing there, staring at this salt and pepper man rushing in the opposite direction while I stand there observing the screech mark he just left on the pavement, thinking how glad I am that I’m not quite addicted to using salt and pepper on all my food yet.