Albuquerque, 7 a.m. in July and it was already piss warm out. A mile out, I saw a lawn sprinkler on ahead and went to douse my cotton shirt in order to keep myself cool for another mile. I skated up over the sidewalk and walked into the grass.
I headed in chest high for a strategic wetting, holding my head back to keep my sunglasses dry. That’s when I saw a street denizen bouncing along towards Starbucks. She seemed very happy and carefree, as she rolled her hollow cheekboned head to some imaginary beat. She was floppy like an old-time cartoon character, but her head moved in a straight line like on a wire. Towards the green siren logo. I thought she must have got a hold of some substance and now wanted to follow up with a Tall Latte.

Spotting me, her mission changed and she turned and strided straight at me in the sprinkler. Within a few seconds she stepping onto the grass in the sprinkler and began dancing and laughing. Shit, she could have a weapon. I clambered my way back to the pavement, dug in my poles, and took off.