Yeah, feeling a bit isolated, this writer, on the Fourth of July in Washington, DC.

Coming from my therapist appointment last Monday I found myself standing across P Street from a very pretty young woman.  We make brief eye contact, a brief smile.  I go down to the basement level Chinese-run plain grocery store, and she's gone into the Starbuck's there at 21st.  Getting the few things I need, I go back not the short way but by the way I came, and I sit down on the coffee shop patio to straighten things out in my courier bag, and then minutes later, I get up and what the heck follow along behind her.  She walks more quickly than I, but from reading The Bhagavad Gita there is the necessity for action in life.  She's stopped at the corner waiting for the light at Massachusetts, construction going on at the intersection, and as I come up and stand there, she turns to me and asks which way do the numbers get lower.  Let me think, yes, lower that way, and she thanks me and proceeds, and I don't want to go home yet on a nice day, and I catch up with her again at the next intersection, taking a risk with the left hand turn traffic, and then close to the bank I am next to her.  "This is nice weather for Washington, DC," I tell her, and ask where she's from.  She's in town, having graduated college, a Carolina native, to work for a congressman from South Carolina and she tells me his name.  "Oh, you'll have a good social life then, up on the hill," and we walk forward, the large sweet potato and V8 heavy in my bag.  I explain my brother's history on the Hill and that ultimately being a lobbyist you can do alright.  I work in the restaurant business, not so much money but you can be a little generous to nice people.  "Is it a good restaurant?" she asks, "of course," and I explain where it is.  You'll have to come by sometimes.  Do you like French wine?  Oh, my roommate was in Paris...

And then, I say nice talking to you, my name's xxx and she tells me her name is xxxxxx and she's heading that way, and I...  wished I'd followed her one more tick up the road.  Across Dupont Circle, where I eventually soon ended up anyway, sitting on a bench reading from  my book.

Then you sit on the memory all week.  Young, very very pretty.  A friendly little flower of the South.  And I suppose I didn't have that sort of post-therapist tired feeling, from 45 minutes of trying to figure out your own problems...  Be positive!

But then you end up thinking what's a pretty young lady who works for a Republican congress member going to want with me anyway.  And besides, you weren't bold enough anyway to ask for her phone number, and there's no point going on creepy Craigslist, and so it's back to reading further into The Bhagavad Gita, but this time about the senses and desire, those things which cloud our picture of true reality...

And then it's July Fourth, the nation's celebration, and everyone is into politics here and feels good about their participation one way or another, and I was interested in that sort of stuff too once upon a time.  And me I work in a restaurant, have too many friends who are drinking related, and get up late.