Today, it happened again.
Walking toward me on a crowded sunny sidewalk was a portly man wearing nothing but a diaper, a black diaper, with shoes and socks. It was not shorts, or a lava lava, it was a diaper. Where does one even buy a black diaper in size Enormous, yet?
It boggles the mind.
I had my camera with me, but was riveted mesmerized paralyzed with fascination. eyes glued to that immense diaper as it went by like an isle flotante. A mirage. Or perhaps an acid flashback.
"Now there's a conversation piece," I said aloud.
A woman who was hurrying around me said, "Nobody looks at anyone in San Francisco. He's counting on that."
Reluctantly, I left the scene of the crime ( crime obscene?) because I had things to do.
On my way back, I plotted our next encounter. My camera was set to shoot on sight, and I rehearsed various polite opening gambits to our conversation.
"Excuse me, could I photograph you in your exceptionally large diaper?"
No.
"Would you mind if I took your picture? I've never seen anyone wearing... "
Scratch that.
I peered into all the restaurants and coffee shops, although I was sure he would be refused entry to any of them. Some body parts should not be allowed to dangle on chairs used by the general public.
"Pardon me, Sir. May I take your picture? You look so -- comfortable."
It wasn't much but it was the best I could come up with.
For some things, there are no second chances. I didn't see him again. All I have to remember him by is my seared eyeballs and the lingering melody of the Batman song, lyrics changed to "Diaper Man." Da da da da da da da da, Dia-per Man.
It made me ponder how many opportunities we miss in life because we are not prepared. I think, many.
