Me > You
I was late this morning. Senioritis. The last day of my rotation. We were both heading for the same door. Starbuck's on South Street. I saw you crossing the street. I knew you wanted your morning coffee, too. That you may be running behind just like me. I was crossing 9th Street as you were crossing South. You were going to beat me, but I jogged four or five strides so I would get there first. And then I didn't acknowledge you. I let you open the door for yourself, pretending not to notice you were behind me. I felt guilty, I guess. It was so obvious that I had cut you off.
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