On the Curb of the Publix Shopping Lot...

I sat with my weeks worth of groceries, grateful for once that I had no butter, sour cream, milk or ice cream. The sun was cooking down on me, perhaps amplified by the black tar-top lot, and I knew that all of those things would perish... I could have sat in my car to contemplate what to do, but it too was black and as hot as the dickens.
So I just sat on the curb with my bag of potatoes, box of pasta & can of mushrooms...
smoking, contemplating, waiting...
For what, I did not know.
The hood was up on my car, as if it were a flag waving some friendly tow truck safely over. But I knew that would never happen. Roadside protection had already told me that I had used the maximal allowance for a twelve month period.
Nope. No more tows for almost 3 more months.
So, I just sat there...
smoking, contemplating & waiting....
I watched people come and go...
Green aprons pushing squeaky wheels over the black top and to the gold Volvo's, sleek white Mercedes, big F-150's, the spotless Cadillac's and the little black BMW's.
Green aprons loading up bags of fresh fruits and vegetables and huge slabs of meat and bag load after bag load of wonderful, healthy food.
Green aprons plopping twelve packs of Heinekin and bottles of champagne into trunks.
Green aprons dropping preservative-rich frozen insta-meals and gossip magazines and Pantene into tiny little trunks.
Green aprons sweating and never accepting a tip & never noticing me noticing them.
With my rump on the curb and my flip-flopped feet on the black top, I looked over my shoulder...
Grass. Beautiful, green grass. Thick. Healthy. Cool.
I stretched my legs out before me & allowed myself to just lay back, become one with soft cool earth.
Staring into the sky, my mind bounced & ricocheted around my own little world.
Chinga- Ching - Ching.
The rythym of the sound drawing closer ...
Chinga - Ching - Ching
Chinga - Ching - Ching
Long dirty blonde hair in dread locks.
Chains from front pockets of baggy, faded & holey blue jeans to the back pocket.
Hemp in the form of a braided hat and a well-worn necklace.
'A song for my fair lady.'
'I haven't any money for you.'
'No worries, my lady.'

Remembering another moment of enjoying the 'eternal now'....
"Chinga-Ching-Ching" to the profound strangers in our lives that make a difference and may never even know it...