A Sight to Behold

There he was, standing on the street corner as though he was the most normal person in the world. Having been taught that it was impolite to stare I tried several times to avert my gaze, but to no avail. I could not stop looking at this, this . . .I don't know what to call him. He was ridiculous, silly and bazaar all wrapped up in one person. He was tall and gangly with his long skinny legs poured into stone-washed bell-bottomed jeans that had bright pink lace and sequin patterns down the front of them. The jeans stopped midway between his calves and his ankles showing pink socks that disappeared inside light brown roller skates with baby pink wheels. He was wearing a fitted pink shirt and a brown jacket that hugged his torso and was half unzipped. His long, severely thin face was accentuated by bright blue 1950's style sunglasses and his long, dark hair was slicked back in a ponytail. He shuffled around on the corner, looking down at his feet and skating in circles as he waited for the light to turn green. His mannerisms were very much in the style of a junior high girl out for an afternoon romp. The man was a walking charade and I found myself wondering at why someone would feel the need to express themselves that way. I couldn't stop looking at him. The light finally turned green and as I started to pull forward the pink roller skater shoved off from the curb gliding across the crosswalk, swaying from side to side in what looked like an attempt to mimic the way girls swing their hips. I couldn't even laugh at the man. My only response was to shake my head in bewilderment and wonder why.