Heard on the Street

I pulled up to the Panera on the Plaza this morning, and noted this odd-lookin’ dude pacing back and forth on the sidewalk. Not odd in the sense of “By-Night-I-Live-Under-The-Bridge”, but I just don’t see a lot of professional men in sweater vests and Dutch Boy haircuts, and this one had his earbud-cellphone thing going on so he was talking while pacing. I wasn’t sure if there was much of an accent, mostly because I was trying to contain my surprise at hearing, “I just hope that getting off the SlrrrrrXicrrrrr is easier than getting off methadone.”

Well, I certainly hope so, too.

And once again, proving how the world is shrinking, I ran into a couple of co-workers. I marveled at how fantastically well (and fast) our brains can work, you know? I just glanced sideways into the seating area as I set my bag down, waiting for my breakfast sammie, and I saw my two friends. Chatting with them turned into a longer-than-expected delay, but was lovely and worth it. And didn’t require a smidgen of methadone!