2004-10-07 - 1:39 a.m.
On the walk back to my car, I saw a pair of white canvas shoes in the middle of the sidewalk, looking like somebody had simply stepped out of them.
As I approached this particular parking meter, I saw from a way off that there was a woman clinging to it with her whole body, her bare feet feverishly digging into the dirt at it's base.
She asked me as I put my change into it:
"What is my finger doing?"
"Well, it is digging into the receptacle that my receipt will come out of in a moment."
"Tell me when I can let go of this, OK"
"OK...Actually, you can keep where you are, I just got my receipt."
I started to walk to my car to put my receipt to the window, but she started frantically yelling after me:
"Tell me when I can let go!"
So I went back:
"Do you need anything? Did you lose your shoes back there?"
"Yeah, I ran out of them."
"Are you sure you're OK?"
The woman was visibly frightened and shaking.
"I am in Portland at a parking meter."
Truer words.
I told her that she could let go, breaking her spell of sorts. We walked down the sidewalk which she stopped abruptly in the middle of fidgeting at her wrist, while I continued on my way.
About an hour later, walking back to my car I see there is an immaculate rose leaning up against the parking meter. Seriously, dog.
What happened here.