You Are What You Have to Wrestle in Pudding
I once kicked a man in Spain.
Not hard, mind you. And, if we're going for full disclosure, I may have just mimed the kick, as it never connected with any portion of the man's person.
Is that miming a kick? Or is that kicking and missing?
At any rate, I looked around, after the mis-kick, and attempted to look like I was the sort of person that just took big steps. I was a foreigner in a foreign land, so I figured it might not be the most brilliant idea to appear hostile to the natives. I took a couple exaggerated steps, on the last of which I felt a painful twinge in my hip.
As much as I'd like to think I traveled inconspicuously down the riverside from then on, my slight limp, and occasional veering nearly into the street, away from the river, may have drawn some attention to me.
I would occasionally veer away from the river because I have this, and some call it irrational, fear that, when I'm walking alongside a river, no matter how high the fence making sure ordinary citizens don't go plunging, unintentionally, down into the waters, that I'm going to fall into the river. Whether I trip and topple headfirst towards the river (I'm convinced gravity is more effective near bodies of water, thus the discrepancy of the extra gravity over the river and the lesser gravity over the sidewalk means that things falling near enough the river will inevitably be sucked into the river), get my heel stuck in the picturesque foreign sidewalk and topple into the river, or a tourist, or perhaps an angry native, would come barreling out of nowhere and tackle me in classic American football style, the two of us, or, worse still, just me, breaking free, rolling over the edge and into the river. I have no history that would suggest any of those things would happen, nor do I know of anyone who's had any of those things happen to them. Still, I tend to veer away from a river, should I find myself walking alongside one. It's mostly a subconscious thing. Let the concentration go for just a second, even, and I'll find myself almost in traffic, yet safely away from the water.
When I passed beneath another bridge, and a rain of roses fell down from the onlookers, I knew that perhaps I hadn't been as successful as I'd have liked.
I would have to work on my conspicuousness if I was going to remain stationed in Spain as a spy.
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