6/365

I waited for the 212 bus at the bus stop at La Brea and Wilshire. On the bus bench, a man unwrapped a CD and threw the shrink wrap on the ground. There was a trash can three feet away. I watched him. He unwrapped another CD and threw its wrapper on the ground. I walked up to him and picked up the wrappers from the ground.

"Here, let me help you with that," I said. I picked up the cellophane off the ground and threw it away in the trash can.

"Oh I see. You want some more? Here's some more." He tried to hand me another wrapper.

"I showed you how to do it," I said. "Now you try."

"You better watch who your talking to," he said.

I walked away and stood by the wall waiting for the bus.

"Thank you," a lady said. "I already called him a litter bug."

"Some people have no respect." I said.

And the 212 bus came. We all got on it. I sat up front, just in case litterbug guy was insane. He was dressed semi-bum. I wasn't sure if he was homeless or just slovenly. He didn't smell homeless.

Litterbug guy walked up and down the bus, trying to sell his day pass. I don't know if he found a customer.

Half an hour later, we both got off on Adams and Crenshaw.

He waited for me to catch up. He said something like why don't I pick up trash if I care so much about it.

"I do," I said, truthfully. "I pick up trash all the time because of people like you."

"There's some trash. Pick it up," he said.

I crossed the street, and he walked beside me. There was some more back and forth. I forget what exactly.

"Shut up," I eventually said.

He had some response.

"I'll give you respect when you deserve respect," I said.

"Suck my dick, faggot. Shut up your faggot ass," he said.

And I walked on down the street as he crossed to the other side of Adams.

And I felt good, because I had stood up for my community, and I had felt no fear.