Working in Worcester

On any given day in the city you will double-take and question if your vision is going, if last night's booze has worn off and if you really just witnessed what you saw. Today was not different for me. While walking back from grabbing a hummus wrap, a man on ol' school Huffy almost ran me into the middle of Main Street. Nothing outrageous there, however, as he passed by I heard him yell, "Jim, why don't you got any clothes on." Sure as shit, here comes Jim, a stout man in his early 40s with long hair on the sides but bald on top, walking on this early winter afternoon in a t-shirt with flip flops. You know the type. You can almost smell them before they approach. I felt sad for a moment, wondering if our friend was poor and couldn't afford appropriate attire for a New England day. The emotions dissolved quickly when Jim passed by, providing me with the opportunity to check out his fancy red toe-nail polish. Stunning, really, and those ten toes deserved to be seen.

Now, in high school, my friend Tim past out and awoke with red fingers and toes, created using a permanent marker. It was fourth of July weekend, and let me tell you, the boy looked fantastic in his sandals, smoking cigarettes the next afternoon. The color was a hit. Sorry Tim. Our friend Jim, on the other hand, has no reason for sandals today leading me to believe he just wanted to share his sexy feet with the world. Thank you Jim!