anti:freeze

There were three magazines on the sidewalk, laid out in a neat row. The first was a back issue of Time, flipped opened to a typically overcrowded page, filled with headines and news briefs, the kinds of stories you can read standing in front of the refrigerator, or in between bus transfers on your way to work. The last was an issue of Watchtower, the one Jehova's Witnesses carry in thick stacks to streetcorners all over downtown, where they offer free issues to passing pedestrians, hoping they'll take that first small step into God's good graces. In between the McNews and religious propaganda, was an issue of Exotic, complete with a scantily-clad blonde and a headline that read, "Back to School!" (Probably not a feature on backpacks and Trapper Keepers). I wondered how the magazines got there in the first place. Was this some kind of joke? A message? A sign? I imagined them floating down from the sky and landing in front of my apartment building.

At that moment, a business man walked by, his striped silk tie blown back around his neck, his hair still wet from a shower. He glanced at the magazines, and without hesitation, reached down and grabbed Exotic. As he walked away, he flipped through the pages and smiled.

I was stunned. How often do we see someone act without any hint of shame?

And then I thought, yuck. God knows where that magazine has been, and what the previous owner did while reading it.