I was walking down Broadway schlepping my metal cart. It was filled to the brim with my Big Lots purchases. I will confess now that I am a Big Lots addict. I love buying dressings I have never heard of for 99 cents. Cheap pink plastic plates that I can throw away. A case of Coke for a buck (well, that is an exaggeration).
But I digress. The real story here is the guy on the bike that almost ran me over. He was riding his bike on the same side of the sidewalk that I was schlepping my cart. And I gotta tell you there was not room for both of us. So, I gave him "my move over buddy" stare - the one I've perfected since I've lived here and then gave him my version of the evil eye.
He didn't move over. Obviously, I am not evil enough.
As he whizzed by - almost knocking me over - I noticed his t-shirt. It read, "People Are Graffiti." And I yelled as he passed me, "No, they are not!"
Then I got to thinking about it. Maybe they are. And that's when I started reading people's chests. I had no idea how many people wear t-shirts with "stuff" on them. "Get to Da Choppa." "Sex Panther." "I'm Kind of a Big Deal." "Taco vs. Grilled Cheese Death Match." "It's All Good in the Hood." "In Fish We Trust." "Someone in LA Loves Me." "Big Boobs for Sale." "The Dude Abides."
I could go on and on. Because I am now a chest reading addict. An encyclopedia of knowledge of weird totally inappropriate sayings. I live to go back on the street to read more chests.
Perhaps, one day you will see me walking by. I am the one wearing the t-shirt that says, "Chest Reading Addict."
Just kidding. Or, am I?