Life in the city, part #2,385
To clear my head just now, I was taking a walk around the block at 7th and E, NW, DC - very nice area which is part of what's known as Penn Quarter, just a couple blocks from the National Archives and near several Smithsonian museums.
I get to a corner, where the city has put out these large concrete planters about three feet high and four feet across as a beautification effort, filled with leafy green plants.
And there is a white woman wearing running shorts bent over at the waist and with bent knees with her head completely buried in this planter - arms hanging limp at her side.
I did a double-take, then decided, Jeezus, this is a dead body. I felt I had to do something and started moving to her. Luckily, some young black dude was quicker on his feet, got to her and started shaking her. and yelling, "Ma'am, you okay?"
After almost a full minute of this, she pulls her head out of the shrubbery, stumbles to her feet, and mumbles something about being okay. She's obviously either drunker than I've been in my life at 3:30 on a Thursday or on serious drugs. Her face looks 20 years older than I would have predicted seeing her bent over the planter, snf dhr'd got bits of shrubbery stuck everywhere.
Hard life. And weird times in the city.