A Man Left Behind

I had a terribly unhappy experience the other day. It may have been a week or more ago at this point. I was on my way to someplace I can't recall now. It may have been improv class. In any case, I know I was at the subway station at Hollywood and Western in Hollywood, and i was heading east on a connecting bus. I was mentally preoccupied, or I assume I was. I ordinarily don't make such mistakes as I did on this occasion.

I habitually bring a book when I expect to have time for reading, and a bottle of water to places where I suspect I need it. Keeping possession of them is not typically a problem. This time, it was. I came up out of the subway station, perused the farmer's market there, and set my bottle down on a newspaper vendor rather harshly. I thought at the time that someone could have noticed that, especially as things worked out.

When the bus came, I just plain forgot about my poor bottle, and I left it behind. It took me a while to realize it, too. I really must have been thinking about other things, as long as it took me to forget about that. I was terribly traumatized by the loss, as I'd had that bottle for a while. A friend, aggrieved by my use of glass mason jars for the same purpose, bought it for me. I used to toss the mason jars up and down, from hand to hand, and he feared that I would drop one and cause injury.

I guess I got over the loss fast enough. By the time I was headed back home, I passed on foot by the very same place where I'd lost the bottle and didn't even think to look and see if it was still there. I try to see in such losses the opportunity to replace them with something new and exciting. Anyway, it also occurred to me that unattended objected are looked at with enough suspicion that it's best no one connected me with it. Who needs that?