I love this city.
Recently I had occasion to notice that the tattoo parlor downtown was open for business at 8 am. Either that or someone, in the sleep-deprived fog of the wee hours, forgot to turn off the neon “OPEN” sign in the window. I don’t know why I like the thought of tattoo business getting rolling so early. Probably the people who get their tattoos first thing in the morning are quite sensible, and have scheduled their appointment in advance. But even if they failed to call ahead, they can rest assured that they can still get their ink before the stock exchange opens (so long as they aren’t doing any pre-market trading).
It’s also interesting to note that there are no homeless people still asleep in Moore Square at 8 am, although when I drove by there were five or ten bundled, tired-looking people scattered like pigeons along the far side of Blount street, wearily watching the city’s litter detail employees wheel their industrial-sized Rubbermaid garbage cans through the park.
Then, while waiting patiently at a chirping red light in the heart of downtown, I watched a city bus lumber and roar through the intersection in front of me, mentally sighing at its graffiti-damaged, paint-scraped sides. I squawked out loud when I saw advertised clearly on the rear of the bus that it was an “Art on the Move” vehicle. Egad, my tax dollars at work! Upon arriving at my next internet hot spot, I was compelled to look this up, and I have helpfully posted the piece for you; it would look great in an art gallery, but boy did it ever sneak up on me in the city street. The artist, Timothy Postell, would probably love the reaction he got from me.