When do you get laughed at? In the morning?

Picture it: Ben walking up Broadway at rush hour. Its hot already in the City of Angels, and the cars around bring the smog right down to lung level.

8:40 and the LA County Sherrif bus, with whatever group of people the po-lice decided to rope up the night before, passes by 41st St. Every day. Like clockwork.

I carry my usual backpack, swing my gallon jug of water. And I do my usual crosswalks like I'm on a track... same starting point and same ending point every morning. Different cars and some change in the other people I see walking; but I get the same looks.

I pick the sides of the street (north and east) that offer shade, almost hugging the walls of parking lots and buildings to get more of my body out of the sun.

And I come up on this intersection, 38th St and Hill (I'm walking on Hill), and there's a group of dudes who sit outside and have their breakfast between 8:20 and 8:50 every day; almost to the minute, I can know whether I'll see these guys.

A guy named Marvin used to do security at a nearby building and I'd say what's up to him every day. But he left; and now I don't really say hello to the dudes that hang out there. I guess I talked to Marvin when he worked there cause he was a loner. All the other guys are in conversations and stuff when I pass.

So, I pass them and cross Hill, nearing Animo Robinson school. I see some girls chillin the grass outside the schoolyard's track. And a couple 'hey!'s and other catchy lines are shot my way and laughs are had by all. But I don't really know what the joke was.

I get to work, see the same foundations' names in the staircase on the way up to the second floor office. And my day has finally started.

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Matt McCluskey just called! What's up, Milf!?
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