Sunday, October 19, 2008
The Pink Cowboy does not intend to contemplate the secret life of snails (their hangout bars, erotic massage parlors et. al.) but rather analyze the daily motions of the homo sapiens in a suburban mall. This little adventure in people watching has taken me to the rather small city of Frisco, about 20 miles north of Dallas. Watching the swinging people walk to the rhythms of rush shopping with fast bouncing full throttled legs was truly a sight to behold. The sexy cowboys strutting around with widespread leg distance, their fluffy ladies right behind tiptoeing their way through faux marble floors. I sat a bit disconnected at a sitting area in front of Macy's. Budding Mexican maids stepping out of bounds. Bending down to pick up the garbage from art deco bins. It was a kinetic revelation. Movement announced social positioning. The African American yonder quickly stepped in and out of the mall main entrance in tandem. Lazy kids from North Lake College slided into Barnes and Noble wearing t-shirts in nouveau faded colors. The nerd sociopath hovered over like a disoriented hornet. I sat still, watching the dance of hours rushing like demons. Running amok into some perceived void.
The Pink Cowboy has overloaded his circuits. In days like this I wish for a slow brotherhood of fellow pink cowboys. Breathing the big sky into oblivion.