You Are What You Eat

In the mornings, I wake up thirty minutes too late, rush out the door, but still manage to grab a coffee and egg sandwich on the way to work. I stand at the corner of Fifth and Main, waiting for the bus. The city is always so busy in the mornings, and traffic has already begun to back up. No doubt, I was going to be late to work, again. Hopefully, my boss was stuck in this jam as well. Or maybe she had a horrible car accident and wouldn’t come in at all today, but that was wishful thinking.

“Pig!” I try not to look around at who was yelling. Every once in awhile, a creepy homeless guy tweeked out on something would wander around the street corner, yelling at passerbys. I always try to ignore him, not wanting to give him an excuse to breath on me. “Piiiiig!” He yelled again.

Pretending to check my phone, I snuck a quick peek at who he was yelling at, and instantly regretted turning around. This crazy guy was yelling ‘pig’ at this woman who had a little extra weight on her. Her face was red, and she was obviously trying to ignore him. I felt mortified for her, and wondered for half a second if I should say something.

“Chicken!” He hollered again. This time he was following after a young man who was jogging by, the homeless guy limping along after him, “Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!” The jogger flipped him off and yelled an obscenity back at him, but the crazy guy only cackled. Suddenly, the guy starts flailing his arms behind another man in an expensive looking suit, “Human! Human!” The gentleman looked down his nose at the yelling moron, and was able to quickly hail a taxi.

The homeless guy was silent for a moment, then I nearly jumped out of my skin when he yelled two inches from my ear, “Chicken!” Idropped my coffee, causing a huge wet brown stain down my pant leg, “Are you serious!?” I yelled at him. He just cackled, “You are what you eat! I know what you ate for breakfast, girlie!” I backpedalled away from him, and thank you all that is good the bus came, so I could get away from him. Who ever heard of someone knowing the last thing you ate? But then I thought about it. I had finished my egg sandwich at the bistro...