A cold front was supposed to be moving in, but it wasn't there yet. I was sweating in my jeans. I was considering going back to my apartment to change into shorts. I only lived a block away, but still decided that since I was already in the park and didn't want to be late, I shouldn't bother. At least I wasn't alone; on the street, I saw everyone else wearing pants too. They were probably just as hot as I was. That gave me some comfort; they had made the same mistake as I did.
I was walking through the park to the West Side to make it a much simpler, one-train ride down to Penn Station. Instead of walking a scenic route, I was on the crooked, cobble stone sidewalk of 85th street. I wanted to save time. Plus, I was carrying my clothing for the weekend in a canvas bag. It was heavy. I didn't feel like carrying that on the longer route.
Within the first hundred yards or so, I saw three little children sticking their cheeks through a black fence above me. They were no older than five; their cheeks still had baby fat on them. They had wandered through some bushes from a playground behind them to this fence protecting them from the seven-foot ledge and the cross-town traffic before them
They waved to me. I waved back in large side-to-side movement with a completely open fist, as one does when waving to babies. They seemed to be inviting me out to enjoy this last day of summer. It was cute. When I got closer, the one in the middle, a girl, I think, and probably the leader of her little trio play group, yelled out in a little squeaky voice that can be expected from a girl her size and age, "loser!" I was shocked. It had all been a trick. The waving, and smiles, and bright plants behind them, and the beautiful sunny day, it was all fake, a hoax.
It was then that I received the big blow: "DOUBLE LOSER!" They were laughing, laughing behind that fence.
It hurt. I was considerably older and more mature. I could go to the park by myself; their mommies had to bring them. Also, I knew much worse names to call people than "double loser." But this still stung. I trusted them. They were beautiful.
I quickened my pace. I wanted to get away from there. I could hear them laughing. I was depressed; my muscles grew weary. I flung my weekend bag over my other shoulder and walked as fast as I could to the train.
I was sweating.
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