Mr. Write's Page

One of my sons is a police detective in nearby Athens, Georgia. His job is to deal with the dregs of humanity and the seediest parts of town. He isn’t as fond of Athens as I am.

Me, I like Athens a lot. If you’re free to choose your company and where to go, Athens is fun, funky, and fascinating. A case in point…

I was in downtown Athens a few days ago to pick up some poster prints — enlargements of the latest grandkid photos, to be precise. As I was exiting my car in the parking lot at the print shop, two guys, white and college-age, passed by on the sidewalk.

They were riding unicycles.

Both sported Mohawk haircuts. One blond, one brown.

Each was preceded by a dog on a leash — the brown-haired guy by a serene Australian shepherd, the blond guy by an energetic Yorkie.

As this party of four reached the corner, the traffic light changed, and they were obliged to stop for the cross traffic.

The dogs took a rest break. The unicyclists avoided dismounting by rocking back and forth — half a revolution forward, half a revolution back, half forward, half back.

I stood there a few feet away, observing the odd procession because, well, how could I not?

Before long, the blond rider noticed me. “Hey, man” he said congenially.

“Hey,” I replied. “I had a Yorkie once. With those little legs, he had a hard time keeping up.”

“Oh, Willie is tough,” he said. “He has more stamina than the rest of us put together.”

The two guys continued to rock back and forth, back and forth, remaining balanced with supreme ease. It looked like fun. Made me want to take up unicycling.

“We do a loop of the downtown with the dogs just about every day,” said the brown-haired guy. “Downtown and out Prince.” By Prince, he meant Prince Avenue, the street in front of us.

“Yeah,” said Blondie sarcastically, “Out Prince to see if Emily is at work! Ooh, ooh, Emily!”

“You know what?” said his friend, “Take a vacation, you jerk — to Jerk-maica!”

“Is Emily there? Will she see me?”

“Loser. Idiot.”

“Ooh, Emily!”

“You are so lame.”

“You’re the one who’s lame, lame-o! You and Emily live on different planets, man! It ain’t gonna happen! “

“Dude, you are such a loser.”

Blondie beamed smugly. The brown-haired guy, clearly embarrassed, gave me a sheepish look.

“Emily is really great, man,” he said wistfully. “And she’s such a babe! She’s, like… almost painful to look at.”

“Wow,” I said. “That’s impressive. You’re a lucky guy.”

“Lucky. Yeah, right.”

The traffic light changed. The party of four prepared to cross Prince Avenue and continue down the other side.

“Later, man,” said Blondie.

“Yeah, later,” said the brown-haired guy.

“Have a good day, guys,” I said. “If you see Emily, tell her I said hey.” That got a laugh.

As I opened the door of the print shop, I turned and looked back. The four of them were advancing down the Prince Avenue sidewalk at a leisurely pace, single file. Willie was leading the way.