On the Sidewalk with FML – Things that make me Sad, 9-25-10

Today, I was walking with what we call a scrum – a group of escorts circled up around the client and her companion – moving along the sidewalk.

I’m talking to the client, a young woman; she keeps her head down.   It’s a loose scrum, there’s space between the escorts, we aren’t holding hands.  I see M2, a tall, fairly aggressive woman, coming up fast on my right –  she’s talking, “Don’t do this – don’t do this – don’t go in there, it’s murder, it’s a baby, you’re killing your baby”  and –

– I try to move closer to the client.  But M2’s been a chaser for years, she’s too quick for me. She shoves her body between me and the client, a little in front of me, which pushes me back.

Faster than I can say it, the client looks up, back toward me – a little panicky – so I move forward more quickly, my shoulder pushes M2 out of the way.  Just as quickly, M2 turns, throws her arm out, between me and the client, open-handed, she thrusts a plastic fetus in the client’s face.   I move forward again, knocking M2’s arm with my shoulder, moving it out of the way – she shoves back.   I stumble —

–and step on the client’s shoe.  Cute little flip-flops with sparkly things on the straps.  She stumbles, I apologize, we keep moving.  But I’ve broken the side thong.   She’s half-limping, trying to keep the shoe on – chasers swarm around us – and I apologize again – and again.

I wish we got do-overs.  That’s really all I can say.  Sure, we made it to the door.  No one got hurt.  It wasn’t completely my fault.  I’m not even sure I could do it better if I had another chance.   But somehow – the shoe lingers with me.   A little black flop with sparkly things, broken.  I’d just like a do-over on that one.

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