Designer Bag

It’s the fishnet stockings. I always try to figure out if there’s some message that they’re intended to convey. This morning, it was someone waiting for the bus. Black fishnets, not particularly sexy old black shoes. A non-descript dark knee length skirt. Holding a Louis Vuitton logo tote bag. And then she turned around. A unhappy wrinkled face, a cheap cotton foulard, and OMG, faint pink streaks in her partially fading blonde over grey dye job. This was in a higher income neighborhood, she was obviously not a homeless person. Just someone who seemed to have given up. And the first line came to me:

The remains of a well-kept wife walked by me yesterday. Her dye job has been slipping, since her husband ran away. Her bag is still designer brand. Authentic (I can tell). Too bad the plastic surgery Did not hold up as well.

Dog walks man! See it here!

In Barcelona, you see a lot of people walking dogs, and something made me take note of an interesting dog-human pair I passed yesterday. The dog was a low-slung dachshund-beagle looking thing, and the man holding the leash walked with the slow, jerky steps of someone with reconstructed hips or legs. Neither of them was in a hurry. I thought he was a pretty lucky guy.

Dog walks man!

The dog is out to walk the man. He needs his exercise. (The man that is, he’d never leave the sofa otherwise.)

They've known each other long and well. It used to be the man who organized the outings to the local pipi-can.

The dog now fetches other things than what his master throws -- medications, the remote control ...-- It's amazing how he knows his master's needs, no words and no command.

But if you've ever had a dog I think you'll understand.

Dedicated to 3 special dogs: Penny, Brandy, and Lady

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vocabulary: In an attempt to toilet train dog-owners, Barcelona city planners came up with the idea of establishing officially designated dog pooping areas in parks, and coined them “pipi-cans” (‘can’ = dog).

The red plaid pants

Treasures. This city’s sidewalks are full of treasures. He was impossible to ignore as I walked past him this morning. Barcelona has a silent dress code that makes anyone who transgresses it suspicious.

The gentleman in red plaid pants

The gentleman in red plaid pants stands waiting at the light. I wonder if he's dressed for day, or if those are from last night? A younger man approaches him, and whispers in his ear. Hand in hand, they walk away. I watch them disappear. Too soon to draw conclusions, unless you factor in the fact his absence is so short, and it happens all again.