World at My Feet: CRUISE THE CROWD
The sun is shining at last, claiming it’s rightful throne from the bi-polar ice queen called Winter as it warms my dark and baggy jeans-clad legs and my Ultraviolence T-shirt with a pin-striped jacket covered back as I walk between the footpath and the many mowed lawns of a street to get down to the local traino, savoring the combined smell of a sunny day and mowed lawns, freshly cut by something branded with Victa or Stihl, pushed around by clothed apes called blokes with the curse of next-to-none in fashion sense. Next, was the traino itself which on the inside, resembled the bones of an overgrown, dead whale (NOTE: If I could make it into a landmark, the Japanese will be camping out like Star Wars fans to a movie premier for days on end.), which has a while to complete anyway. Tagging on to the SmartRider, I sit down, minding my own beeswax and two ladies (one with a bicycle, one with bright red hair sliding at the magenta color scale) were going at each other because the one with the hair didn’t have any change, so I decided to give her forty-cents out of the blue, feeling that she would need the small change more than I would, since I got my pay the previous day. I felt like a balloon about to take to the skies. I didn’t have a word for this, but now I do: generousity. Guess small gestures do count in this country of rowdy hoons, people with no fashion sense and generally bad habits.