Walking to the store, I saw a tall, nervous man, wearing a baby-blue North Carolina baseball cap, ambling along, looking furtively from side to side. Near the Halal Carneceria, he stopped and, turning around in a couple of little circles, took in everything on the block. Then he sidled up to the water vending machine, leaned against it all cool-like for a second, and slinked in behind it. As I walked past and down to Venice, I could barely see the tall man, he was pressed so close to the water machine; it was as if he was trying to become so thin as to be invisible from the window three feet away. What was he doing? It occurred to me that he might be peeing, but that seemed strange.
Then, walking back, I saw his handiwork:
Somehow, despite standing no more than four inches from the water machine, this shy tagger had managed to pull out a market and write on the machine’s white-glazed exterior. His new, red tag was distinct:
(I can only surmise that the tagger using yellow had left some statement that required a response.)
Sadly, I’m way too white to figure out what exactly the meaning of the above is. Kzumz? K4A? Man, if I was gonna go to all that trouble, I’d at least tag “chicks dig Wade!”