Berkeley Sidewalk Tales

I'm standing at the intersection of University and Shattuck. I have my headphones in. I press pause to hear someone to my right. He is talking to himself. It is unintelligible, but he continues and I continue to listen. The light turns green. I push play.

I'm sitting in a chair outside Berkeley Espresso with my laptop in my lap. A man walks by with unkempt, long gray hair. I look up and make eye contact. "I know you and you don't even know it," he says. He walks past me and tries to bum a cigarette from two people down the street. He is unsuccessful.

I'm walking near Shattuck Square and I see a man jog up to a large pillar from a nearby building. He appears to be jogging in place facing the pillar and staring into it as if it is a mirror. He bends in for a closer look and throws his hands into the air. He dips into a crouch position and pops back up. He leaves the pillar and continues down the street with a wobbly walk.

It is night time and I am walking to Blockbuster. I am slightly anxious and very attentive to the sound of footsteps behind me. I hear the footsteps pick up into a run. Internally I flinch with fear. A young boy, maybe a freshman in high school, runs past me. I feel silly.

I'm at a head shop on Telegraph checking out some posters. A guy walks in and starts asking questions. He is in constant motion. He talks very fast and finishes his dialogues with "thank you". He asks me to move so he can grab a product near my leg. He is polite but also pushy. He buys what he needs within one minute of being in the store and hurries out. After he is gone on the clerks says, "Drugs are for losers."

I am walking down the sidewalk and a blind lady is walking toward me. Her walking stick is way out in front of her. In a preemptive maneuver, I move out of her way near the wall. She makes a b-line for me. I'm trapped against the wall as her stick swings side to side. I time the stick and step over it. I straighten up and squeeze past her on the wall side.

My father and I are walking back to my apartment from my parking spot. We are near Half-Priced Books when I see a middle-aged man in a wheel chair. He is cruising. He uses his heals to push the sidewalk under his wheels. "Did you see that?" my father asks. I tell him that I did see him. "Something seem odd about that?" my father asks. I look at him, not sure of what to think. "Why did he need a wheel chair?" my father asks. "Good point," I say.