an overcast brunch on New Year's Day

i spoke with my mother yesterday, and i was surprised to learn that she's been reading this blog. specifically, she mentioned a post from a couple of weeks ago that enumerated various potential (and former) variations to the size of our family. but this is beside the point.

the point is that our conversation was cut short by an impromptu rendezvous with my yin-in-law and her beau, and although this encounter did not begin what has since transpired, it has served as a catalyst.

(i felt the shadow of these things as we took our seats)

we were bombarded by wind and overcast skies, and after relocating to a table alee, an odd frenticism slowly crept over the meal, replete with a waiter whose IQ likely hovered in the low 70's. his hands trembled, he messed up orders, and he said things like:

"i'm not that stupid...

i'm not gonna grab it out of your hand...

i was already doing that..."

every word he spoke was permeated by a fear of not being good enough, and somehow i was the only one tuned into these things.

when he walked away, i whispered to my yin that the man needs compassion. conversation ensued, and i shared my observations with the table. the space softened, the mimosas arrived, and nearly two hours passed before we left.

[shift tense]

back in the parking garage, a car backs out in front of us, oblivious to the fact that we are behind him. my yin reacts, "that guy doesn't even see us," and as we exit into the streets as the rains descend.

i think aloud:

"it's the responsibility of those who see to watch out not just for themselves, but also for those who do not."