I’m at lunch. I should be at the gym, but I’m sitting in my car at the park. I feel like I need to rest. I would like to say that I’m resting at the park, but I’m not. I’m writing tomorrow’s entry.
They are sitting under the pavilion on the metal picnic table. He is wearing a red trucker hat. She is wearing a jacket that is several sizes too big. It looks like it could have been a letterman’s jacket in another life. It has a black body with brown arms. What team has black and brown for their colors? None, I guess. She probably bought it at K-Mart.
She was hanging on to him like he was a raft.
We both agreed, we’d never be the couple on the street. – Jill Sobule, The Couple On The Street, 1995
Her hair is brown and French-braided. It is bound at the nape of her neck with a white Scunci. They are both wearing jeans. He is straddling the bench and she is between his legs. I catch them looking into my car at me. “Is she watching us?” “No, baby. Come closer.”
Like a still life of our worst fears.
I love you so much. Won’t you tell me please
We’ll never be the couple on the street. – Jill Sobule, The Couple On The Street, 1995
They are in love. The way they are talking and looking at each other, I can taste their love from twenty feet away. I feel a guilty pleasure watching them out of the corner of my eye. The tree above my car keeps dropping snow onto my windshield, obscuring my view. If I use the wipers to remove it, they’ll know that I am spying.
[I]t’s one year later I still don’t have an ending.
The inspiration left. I guess we’ll never be the couple on the street. – Jill Sobule, The Couple On The Street, 1995
He kissed her. I can see the scruffiness on his chin and almost feel the scratching on my own face. They stand and she gives him the coat. Oh, I should have know. It was his coat. He lent it to her because she was cold. “I swear she’s looking at us.” “No, she’s just on her lunch or something.” He takes her in his arms and the two of them are wrapped in his black and brown coat while they walk away from me.