Like He Owns The Place

May 10, 2006

He walks into the bus station all dirty jeans and scuffed Red Wings, retractable key fob on his belt and $35.00 an hour confidence in his step. Graying hair and creeping up on 60. He walks like he’s a half-sack into a Friday night – sizing up everything and everybody, ready to swing if necessary. It’s a confidence that men half his age wish they had. The skittish skateboarders get out of his way as do the perfumed heels. Decades old denim hangs from his shoulders and I can make out a faint bleached ring on the upper right pocket – The Chaw Pocket. He chews dangerously. His rough claws echo the mottled concrete pillar that he is now leaning against. Stares off into no particular direction. It’s a world-weary three hundred yard stare that takes decades to perfect. Shuts his eyes for a moment, seemingly in deep thought. Heads outside to spit his wad. Chunk of brown sails from his mouth to the already sullied concrete platform. In one flowing motion he pulls out a pack of DuMaurier and sparks one up. Spits. Takes a drag. Adjusts his soiled cap. With a cigarette hanging from his mouth, he stares out into the southern morning sky with a grizzled grin. Looks at his watch. It’s Tuesday, 7:36 am. He’ll live forever.

Vignette #70

2 reader comments (closed)

1

Rich

Again, I nice little vignette. I like the “he’ll live forever” line, mostly because he obviously won’t.

May 11, 2006 • 07:51

2

Tom

We all know these kind of people.

Those who feel they are above the common folk. They have a different demeanor. They carry themselves in a higher place than the average person.

I feel sorry for these kind of people, as their time in the so called “spot light” is short.

Say a prayer for the common person, may he/she live strong.

May 14, 2006 • 00:04

Northsider Bus Seat

Northsider Bus Seat

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About

StreetRag is an urban weblog and podcast about the city of Edmonton, which is located in the province of Alberta, Canada. It is authored by Edmonton-based writer, web advocate, and poet Michael Gravel and is updated frequently with written urban vignettes, amateurish photographs, deuteronomous audio material, barely coherent musings and rambling ecumenical treatises. StreetRag is a love letter to a lonely prairie burg struggling with its big city ambitions and small-town feel.

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