The simple-minded would assume that the man who
labors daily for countless hours at a food
cart on the winter streets of New York City
would be someone that would envy
Me: a privileged white girl attending
university on the California coast.
But the truth is, I envy this man because
he has the privilege of being able to serve
you
and see your warm smile
as the hot and slightly greasy Styrofoam meets your
cold hands, bitten by the winter air. He watches
you turn, nodding your head to the beats of songs
on a playlist that I made for you. I can imagine
this scene but ceaselessly wanting to be in it
is a pain that the man who works the cart
doesn't understand.
Striving to be better. http://sincerely-soallowed.tumblr.com/
