She Shares Her Concern

I am jogging down a darkened sidewalk. In the distance I see a silhouetted figure approaching. Trees, grass and buildings are to my left, the deserted street to my right. As I draw nearer the woman moves almost imperceptibly toward the center of the sidewalk. I can tell she wants to address me. Is this important? I take a few last lazy strides then come to a stop to the side of her. I have seen this woman before around Redondo Beach walking and riding the bus. Her body is frail, malnourished, her face slightly feminine. She has short hair, both because she is balding and because she has shaved her head to about 1/2". A few longer hairs seem to have escaped both processes; this is her most distinctive feature. She looks timid as she shifts her backback upward towards her shoulders, leaning forward under the weight. She bends her neck to look up at me. In a medium-high pitch voice and with a serious expression on her face, she finally looks directly at me, and says:

"Can you not sleep with the Redondo Beach guy?"

The sentence moves up in pitch slightly at the end, and lingers in the air. As I stand there confused she walks past me, shaking her head in disapproval. I finally consider her request; yes, yes I can. I turn to see her looking back at me. I reply: "Ok."

Somewhere out there, in real or imaginary space, a man or a woman (this much we cannot tell), is inconsiderately sleeping with the Redondo Beach guy, much to this woman's dismay. Why does it bother her? Is she interested in the Redondo Beach guy? He seems to be known for his virility. After all, he is THE Redondo Beach guy (I am just A Redondo Beach guy, otherwise how could I be sleeping with him?). Does the noise keep her awake at night? Does it betray her right to privacy?

I think to myself "Why do I always seem to meet these crazy people?" Then I remember that it's 11:30pm and I'm running down Hawthorne. Maybe I'm one of them.