The jolly swimmer in the pond at the park
It’s a nice little pond. It’s in the corner of the park a block away here in Columbus. I take the dog there almost every day. As usual, he sniffed the flowers for an eternity as I stood by with my back to the water.
I heard a guy singing and remember thinking the sound really carries across the water. I turned — the singer wasn’t on the far bank — he was in the water. Then I saw a bike on the sidewalk with all his clothes next to it.
“Come on in. The water is great,” he said, my back still to the water. After more than 20 years in downtown LA, I’ve learned not to engage with crazy. It can go bad quick. I’ve been punched, kicked, spat on.
“I’ll bet you think I’m on drugs,” he said, splashing around. I stood still. In my head: “Well, uhhh……”
We walked around the bend. By now, he had made his way to the fountain in the middle of the water and started climbing it. Uh-oh.
I shielded the dog’s eyes. He’s too young to process that lol.
