Today as I came into the atrium of my office building, the crazy lady who always asks for a dollar and wears flip flops in the snow was standing outside the plate glass doors on the other side with a large tooth comb, fixing her hair just so. She focused on her reflection intently and took time to reach every strand, smoothing the salt and pepper mass into a sort of wind tousled submission. She went over the stubborn places several times, until all the hairs were smoothed to her satisfaction and finished her coif just as I arrived inside. I saw her quickly pocket her comb to shuffle over to the man taking a smoke break to ask for a dollar.
Laters.
