A pink bicycle Moment in Time

November 9, 2014, approx. 1230
(Approx Alamitos Bay Marina)

sunday by the water
nice cool and anti-hot as it was yesterday
when i left my blazing East LA abode, hot scorching 90-degree’s taunting hell here in November and the
traffic jam
on the 605
Saturday traffic jam, 92 degrees, November 8, fuck. it is
When I leave this godforsaken shithole, when I leave this overrated chunk of geographical misery called
LA behind
why I will flip it the finger

but now, today, cool, cooler by
the beach
as always and why
it costs more by the beach and why
the quality of people is better and why this particular area eludes the ghetto flight to
the typical beach they
don’t come here so it’s nothing but
well-behaved and overly conscientious and well-mannered white people
donning their equally annoying
affectations, tans, skinny long legs, cherubic pink girls with red
skin and flushed foreheads yet
white people can be annoying as my brown
and their blacks
but at least white people you know
will leave you with your life and car intact, so what’s not to like

with this afternoon
white beach afternoon


sitting behind the tree’s quivering
sky branches the sun lilting lazily behind the
leafy shielding and it’s nice and people walking back and forth typical
sunday afternoon long tan legs

even a breeze and a woman older middle-aged walks by, pony tail, not entirely
bad to look at
but looks like the typical beach-combing middle-aged white lady who adores
the sun as much
as whole foods or sur la table
predictable archetypes flood and then she walks back with a young 9-year-oldish girl
cherubic like some young girls are and red from the sun she’s
riding a pink little bike with pink here there everywhere, pink,
the bike screams girl
and they drive by
and they go to
the entrance of a landing that leads down to a long row of docked boats and the
lady looks unsure and she looks at us and
decides a guy with dark hair and sunglasses
can’t be too untrustworthy since his partner here
is an Asian girl so she probably thought
it’s safe
and asked us, with a tinge

of embarrassment if
we could watch the bike while they walk down to the boats
and we say yeah of course
and i crack a joke that yes, we’re not taking that bike anywhere,
we can’t even fit on it and the lady,
good-natured, playing along
says she has ridden it and makes some other
social humor that we all chuckle about
in the interest
of building trust and commonality because that
is after all
how humans civilize and congregate into
trust groups
of common alliance
and humor and a level of humor that
sates the minimalist security check we
run when

surmise another’s threat
and she says they will be back in a few minutes can we watch the bike
and we laugh and she and the girl walk down the landing
and we sit and sit and talk and talk and the bike sits there at the entrance to the landing
and we talk and i joke
that it would be funny if this was a prank and an 11-year old boy came and acted like he was gonna take the
bike and our
reactions were being
recorded on tape as he did so
only to be (mocked when they say “SURPRISE!!!”) and the joke it on us because
the 11-year-old thief is an actor who
is acting
the part of prepubescent thug
and our reaction would be
priceless i thought
this would be a good punked segment if that show is even on anymore i don’t know what goes on in the world

of pop anything
it would be funny we laugh
and wait for the lady
and little girl to come back and wait

and wait
and talk but our attention
on that damned bike, that pink bike leaning against the entrance

a rush of people, minutes later, seems hours, emerges from everywhere and start walking up and
down the landing
and now we are both wondering where this lady is where
is she
she said a few minutes and now we’re stuck with
this little pink bike and it’s like
we’re anchored to this beautiful shaded
spot by the water which previously was wonder and now is prison because
we must wait
or leave the bike which is just
wrong and not how civilized people do things, promises are to be kept, even to strangers
and we wait and finally finally the little pink girl walks up alone, without the lady to get her
she looks at us as if to say something or maybe
as if she expects us to but nothing is said she wheels her bike down the landing
we get up and finally walk away, relieved that situation
desisted horrid attempts to materialize, relieved, we walk
i tell my sea-mate
how funny that the girl came up alone

that her mom probably went to meet her boyfriend in a boat and is getting fucked right now.