The two blocks I walk from the parking lot to the office isn’t far. Two blocks seem pretty insignificant when you think about it, especially when considering Portland blocks. They seems to be much smaller when compared to the streets I walked in Philadelphia. However, the encounters that occur within these short blocks are not inconsequential.

I have seen more naked body parts, people sleeping on the sidewalks, an occasional  person in the process of vomiting, people urinating, and even had a women take a swing at me. Most of these events take place before 9 o’clock in the morning. Way too early to bob and weave and I am not sure there is ever a good time to view a stranger’s penis, I believe.  Sometimes all this happens before my first cup of coffee, so I consider my surviving the blocks to the office an overwhelming accomplishment. Nonetheless, I doubt the consumption of coffee, prior to or after, would soften the impact. However, I would like to think that having a healthy level of caffeine induced agitation might give me the upper hand with some of these encounters.

A few years back, I walked by a man as he was urinating on a parking meter. This man actually lives in the building located right next to my office. He literally was urinating 100 feet from his apartment. I glanced in his general direction, trying to make sense of what I was seeing and apparently this was upsetting to him. He began yelling at me in an animated manner. Of course, I did not react, as I really didn’t want to have a conservation with this guy while he was holding his willy in his hand, and I didn’t have the time to wait until he put it away. I suspect our discussion would not have had a productive outcome anyway.

Interestingly, this man has become part of most of my mornings as I walk by his building and into my office. He is incredibly verbal. He stands, typically, leaning on a parking meter, muttering to himself about various topics. His unrest is just below the surface. After the urinating incident, it seems he decided to put me in a special category. When I pass by, he pays close attention. If I glance in his general direction, he will almost instantly go on the defensive and he calls me a “mother f!@%er*”.  I didn’t immediately understand these two words were directed at me until I noticed that every time I glanced over at him he throws them my way.

At first, I was sorry that I agitated him. I would go out of my way to avoid upsetting him. I would look down and walk fast. Being the source of anyone’s irritability, especially in my line of work is not uncommon. I have to admit I do become a bit numb to being the unpopular person in the room. Maybe that’s why I  sometimes  would forget myself and look his way and boom!  He’d toss those two words right at me. I would feel bad. To be clear, I did not feel bad for me, but for him. To be the source of anyone’s displeasure, either irrational or real, makes me uneasy even if I might be a little numb to it.

However, something changed after I accepted a new position at my job. Now I go into the office much more and I tend to have the same level of agitation brewing just under the surface. I noticed he does stop what he is doing and he does focus on me as he sees me approaching. Now when I see him, I look directly at him. I attempt to make eye contact and like friction to a match, I hear those two magnificent words hurled right at me. This interaction is quick and there is no escalation. All I know is that when I do not see him on my way to work, I don’t feel quite right. These two words are like heroin in the veins of an addict. It just feels so good.

I have not seen him for about a week and I am as concerned for his well being as I am for mine. I am hoping that this unseasonable cold weather has kept him in his apartment, keeping warm. Nonetheless, his self care is impacting my morning routine. All the coffee is not giving me the dose of optimism I get by hearing his daily affirmation. I suppose I am a bit like a masochist, but with words.  I am willing to accept that good morning and good day do not do a darn thing for me anymore. If you see me out there, don’t waste your breath on me by using an empty greeting. If you are willing to accept that I need to have a good morning too, then by all means…I cannot wait to see you.

A few months ago, I met up with my friend and we ate at a local sushi restaurant. We decided to dine outside and we were sat at a table near a fountain that contained some Koi fish. The sound of the fountain, the the red flashes from the swimming fish seemed nice enough. Throughout dinner kids would walk up to take a look at the fish, so I decided to take a gander after I finished eating.

As I walked over, I thought about how relaxed I was after sitting in ear shot of the trickling water, and pondered the long term effects of having a fountain with fish might be something I would like to incorporate into my lifestyle. I made it to the fountain and looked in. As I  leaned over the edge, I saw about 12 fish staring up at me. The Koi were wide eyed and looking at me. All were opening their jaws wide like a yawn and then closing their mouths in a manner that seemed nervous or anxious. Every fish was looking in my direction with this intense need or want in their eyes. I couldn’t tell which, as I often get want and need confused on a regular basis.

The fish held my stare for longer than I wanted and for every second that passed I became ridden with the weight of their expectations.  I felt immediately guilty I would never be able to live up to the standard they were setting fourth with their pleading gazes. I am certain they were only wanting food, but the intense look in their eyes made it appear like they wanted something more.  As I walked away, I realized that I needed to, or is it wanted to… go back to therapy.

I replayed their incessant gazes throughout the evening after leaving the restaurant, much like the replays during a football game. It was similar to the plays that are reviewed over and over, either horrific or amazing, depending on the circumstances. I am not sure what spurred my mind to do so, but in several of the replays if I concentrated enough, I swear, with my limited fish lip reading skills,  one fish actually mouthed, “I need school clothes!” I never considered that a Koi pond would be the measurement for me to understand the state of my mental health, but it seems so.

I haven’t returned to this restaurant yet, but plan to as I used to frequent this place a bunch. I can only surmise I have been waiting for it to get cold enough that there is no chance that I would have the choice to sit outside. Knowing myself the way I do, I would most likely choose to have a second encounter with the fish, if only, to gain some type of understanding about the current state of my mind. However, I am not certain my mental fortitude is in a place where I can withstand the weight of the agonizing gazes that wait for me in the bubbling water.