
I’m walking to my bus stop on my morning commute, and I’m a little less than a block away when this woman leaves her house through her front door, locking it. We glance at each other, as people do, but then ignore each other, and she ends up maybe 10 or 15 yards in front of me — not as close as this zoom suggests, but close enough that I could zoom in this well. The whole time, from when she first stepped out the door, she was carrying this very empty banana peel.
I don’t know! And I wasn’t going to ask! How does that go? “Excuse me, that banana peel seems to be stuck to your fingers”? “Hi, neighbor, are you setting a slapstick comedy trap for me? And should I be watching my step?” “I was around in the ’60s, and it’s a myth that smoking that gets you high”?
At that intersection, she went one way and I went the other, and she is immortal in my photo collection.
March 30, 2016. Google Nexus 6P cell phone, focal length 4.67 (35mm equivalent: 26mm), f/2, 1/215, ISO 60.