From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Tactile
The scratchy polyester of my windbreaker rubs against my neck as I lean over the gas pump, watching the numbers climb until they hit $1.15. It’s too expensive, whatever, everything is these days with people abandoning steady jobs just to hawk samples out of their trunks. Inside the car, the plush, vibrating fur of a Tickle Me Elmo sits on the passenger seat, a frantic prize I finally gripped after fighting through the crowds. I run my thumb over its synthetic red pelt, my palms sweaty as the radio moans that Mariah Carey song for the tenth time this hour.