Dear You,
Yeah, you. I see you there, sleeping.
On the one hand, I admire your moxie and your commitment to rest, even in the middle of a work day. On the other hand...dude. You’re lying in shrubbery.
I checked to see if you were breathing (you were) and if there were any signs of distress (nada), so I’m assuming you chose this specific nap-time pose, rather than merely collapsing there after a fight, or bender, or heart-attack.
You must have really needed your rest, because there was a lady standing not 20 feet away from us, carrying on a very animated conversation on her cell phone. And though she was screaming f-bombs (in both verb and adjective forms), you barely stirred. Your dreams must have been more colorful than her language.
As I was (shamelessly) snapping this photo, a teenager walked by, looking at me looking at you. She laughed and loudly declared, “Damn, she’s taking his picture!” I thought for sure that would rouse you, but no – you slept on.
You were still sleeping when I finished my lunch and stood to leave.
I tip my (proverbial) hat to you, Sleeping Lunchtime Guy. Though I bet the park’s gardeners were less than thrilled by your choice of pillow.
Bonne nuit,
KW
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