It is a crisply cold, bright day in New England while I am out and about town applying for jobs. Snow banks from several storms over winter line curbs, limiting parking. I park behind another vehicle in a fifteen minute zone with sign and step across a dug out section of snow bank to a shop door where sandwiches are sold.
My wife follows me into the shop and we buy two sandwiches in the brightly lit shop with produce on wooden stands in the middle of the shop: glass cupboards of food along the shop walls.
Outside beside my idling vehicle: I eat a turkey sandwich with mayonnaise, which I don't like discarding the last two bites of the sandwich on the tarmac of the street standing beside my driver door.
I anticipate seagulls spotting the discarded, sandwich remnants from the building cornice which houses the sandwich shop and a Japanese restaurant next door.
As I look for napkins in my vehicle opening the driver side door with my wife in the passenger seat, a Japanese man from the next door restaurant appears at the rear of my truck beside my rear wheel where I throw the remnants of the sandwich that I don't like. He picks up the discarded crust of the sandwich.
"Oh you! You no throw trash here!"
"What!? What the hell!? What's wrong with this guy now?"
The Japanese man steps back over the snow bank onto the sidewalk shouting not to throw trash: to keep the city clean.
"What's that!? You want to eat my dog? Ah so!" I say in retort.
"Have you no morals? No ethics?"
"What about this crushed, plastic bottle here? Are you going to pick that up?" I ask him spotting a plastic bottle on the tarmac where I throw the two bites of the sandwich remnants.
"Oh! You are a big asshole! Asshole!" the Japanese man who emerges from next door to the sandwich shop shouts at me as I open my driver side door and sit, closing the door. It appears to me that he is carrying the discarded bites of my sandwich to the sandwich shop and complain.
I put my vehicle in gear and lurch forward into traffic. I drive across town to apply for another job with a mayonnaise smear on my shirt grumbling to my wife about how they always come out of the wood work when I show up: that they are out there and they are not there to help.
My wife follows me into the shop and we buy two sandwiches in the brightly lit shop with produce on wooden stands in the middle of the shop: glass cupboards of food along the shop walls.
Outside beside my idling vehicle: I eat a turkey sandwich with mayonnaise, which I don't like discarding the last two bites of the sandwich on the tarmac of the street standing beside my driver door.
I anticipate seagulls spotting the discarded, sandwich remnants from the building cornice which houses the sandwich shop and a Japanese restaurant next door.
As I look for napkins in my vehicle opening the driver side door with my wife in the passenger seat, a Japanese man from the next door restaurant appears at the rear of my truck beside my rear wheel where I throw the remnants of the sandwich that I don't like. He picks up the discarded crust of the sandwich.
"Oh you! You no throw trash here!"
"What!? What the hell!? What's wrong with this guy now?"
The Japanese man steps back over the snow bank onto the sidewalk shouting not to throw trash: to keep the city clean.
"What's that!? You want to eat my dog? Ah so!" I say in retort.
"Have you no morals? No ethics?"
"What about this crushed, plastic bottle here? Are you going to pick that up?" I ask him spotting a plastic bottle on the tarmac where I throw the two bites of the sandwich remnants.
"Oh! You are a big asshole! Asshole!" the Japanese man who emerges from next door to the sandwich shop shouts at me as I open my driver side door and sit, closing the door. It appears to me that he is carrying the discarded bites of my sandwich to the sandwich shop and complain.
I put my vehicle in gear and lurch forward into traffic. I drive across town to apply for another job with a mayonnaise smear on my shirt grumbling to my wife about how they always come out of the wood work when I show up: that they are out there and they are not there to help.
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