I walked from my office to Barre One, eyeing the mounting storm clouds and picking up my pace, worried about being late to my workout class or getting rained on en route. As I power walked past the future Tennessee Stillhouse, I noticed a wiry man sitting on the steps up to a loading dock at the back of some Market Street building. He waved and said hello. I nodded and kept up my race to the studio. He was just another friendly homeless guy, and I had places to be.
After class, I emerged to find the rains had passed and the skies were sunny and bright. My stomach growled, and I began thinking about dinner. I needed to pick up cream for the soup I was going to make. To buy the groceries I’d have to get to The Grocery Bar, the nearest store. I could grab an electric shuttle and walk the rest of the way. If I didn’t buy too many items, I could get them back to the Choo-Choo, hop on the shuttle back to City Center and catch my bus home. It was still early, and I had plenty of time to deal with transfers and a little walking.