We clipped down Las Vegas Boulevard with light grocery bags and chaotic spring winds darting in at all sides. I kept my head down to block traffic gusts, and also, to scour the sidewalk for pennies. Windy days were good money days. The sharp breeze peeled apart clumps of trash nestled in the curbs, dusting off gems that fell from pockets at the bus stop. The breeze stirred everything up–Change was literally in the air.
I zoomed in on a square of pavement where two pennies lay in a perfect diagonal opposite each other.
"Good eye!" Jimmy cheered and we scurried to the dirt lining the sidewalk to find more. Sure enough, another penny rested amidst the rocks. We played our game of one cent equals $1000. A three grand day. Not too shabby for a Tuesday trip to the grocery store.
As we crossed a parking lot turn-out, my Vibram toe shoes tangled up in a cluster of green plastic tendrils, the kind of industrial strength ribbon that fastened boxes together. I kicked and flailed in ritualistic dance, while they hooked around the rubber ridges of my soles. We laughed for the 30 seconds it took me to shake loose of the stubborn web and I hoped a few drivers caught a smile from the escape act.
I looked sideways at Jimmy, a little too out of breath, holding my arms out with no words to wittify what just happened. His eyes were soft and filled with joy. It's what made him the only person I could laugh wholeheartedly at the ridiculous with.
"And that's what we call, Urban Seaweed," he smiled.