Monday Morning on Taft

On Taft this morning. A straggler with saliva dripping from his mouth walked shakily down the middle of the avenue, oblivious to charging vehicles. On the back of a truck, two workers eyed him with amusement. At a red light, a jeepney slowed down next to him with two young ladies in the passenger seat. The straggler, about mid 40s and wearing an oversized torn short over wispy shorts, approached them. I could not hear what was said. The driver of the jeep leaned over, trying to scare the straggler away. But the man continued to shout, his lips exploding in saliva which would then stretch in long strands to his bare feet. The ladies giggled among themselves and tried to lean away from the man. When the light turned green and the vehicles moved on like a curtain revealing a stage, I saw on the sidewalk a heavyset man holding a holster striking another younger straggler who jumped to avoid the blow and ran down the street.