Before Brunch. October 1999, Capitol Hill.

I left for work almost an hour early. It’s nice to have some “acclimation time”
before actually working. The walk from Capitol Hill to Lower Downtown takes
almost 30 minutes at a leisurely pace, so leaving an hour before was early
enough. Every Sunday, the same routine would apply: Out the door, down the back
steps, out the back door, through the alley, cross 12th, up to 13th, hang a left
and walk to Logan, take a right, walk to Colfax, take another left, walk past
Broadway, cross to 16th, and walk the length of 16th to work. Almost every
Sunday, I took the same path.

I was walking through the alley when I came upon a man digging through a
Dumpster. I was briefly startled, as I hadn’t sensed his presence and had not
been paying attention to the noise he was making, but composed before he sensed
me in his space. He turned to the left suddenly, staccato laughed, and said,
“I’m the Devil, man!” and made a kind of hissing sound, waiting for my reaction.

“That’s funny,” I said slowly, “I’ve seen the Devil several times, and you don’t
look like him…” His whole body paused in mid-movement. “Are you sure you’re the
Devil? How do you know I’m not the Devil?” I narrowed my eyes, concentrated my
gaze, and grew dark, staring into him, motionless, freezing him to the spot next
to the Dumpster in the alley. There was just the two of us.

“I woke up drunk this morning. My girlfriend says I drink too much.” He said,
once again mobile after an undetermined length of time. He began to walk down
the alley a few steps behind and to the left of me, towards the next trashcan.
“I’m lookin’ for a pouch for my shoes.”

“Uh-huh. Well, good luck with that. I’m late for work,” I said, lying,
speeding up, done with the encounter.
“Hey!” he said as I was leaving, “I’ll see you later.”
“Maybe,” I said, rounding the corner, turning left on 13th.

Walking the Avenue, Sunday’s quiet sunny morning was only briefly interrupted by
a few cars approaching from the east. The sounds of re-distributed trash faded
quickly into the near past as each devil went his separate direction. Work was
still a 25-minute walk away. The Sun became gradually brighter. I continued
on, walking the nearly empty streets, headed in the direction of my employment.