Some mornings Rosie and I play in the river. Actually, Rosie plays in the river and I must, must, must, RIGHT NOW, throw her another stick. She slips into the river, slides down the current and catches the stick.
One recent morning, we happened upon a man in swimming trunks. He was adjusting the trunks, like men do, and was dripping wet. Having grown up around a lot of people in swimming trunks, his swim trunk behavior didn't mean anything to me. I only noticed him because he was in the way of a really good stick.
Then I heard it.
A woman, standing on top of a grassy hill, was screaming at the swimming trunks guy:
"You stupid homeless guy, put some g** d*** cloths on."
I look up at the woman. What?? She's bent over screaming while her friends are laughing.
"You can't just take a bath where ever you please, you f***ing, blah, blah, so and so, blah."
I look back at the man and he's taken off his swimming trunks, hung them on the great stick and is dancing around like a crazy person. I catch his eye. He winks, shrugs and dives into the river.
We decided to go down the river to play.