thoughts while sitting on a public bench

People must not sit on benches anymore, or in the middle of nice green patches of grass, or under shade trees.

I say this because I have never lived that movie scene where I’m sitting on a park bench eating an apple when a kind stranger comes to join me. “It’s a lovely spot. Do you come here often?” We make small-talk and become friends. I’m not good at small-talk, but I’ve had a few friends before. I didn’t meet them on benches.

I say this because when I find a nice green patch of grass with no ant beds or stickers, I never have to fight for it. When I find a perfect shade tree, with roots that are deep and strong but don’t mind you sitting on them, I never see any competition. Nobody seems to mind sitting on a beach, or a public toilet, but never grass and never under a tree.

Instead, I sit on a perfectly normal looking bench that I’m sure was meant to be used, and cars slow down. People crane their necks to see what a perfectly normal looking girl (I presume) is doing on a wooden bench with an apple. I turn to see what they might be staring at, and realize that I am the spectacle. They almost always wave, although I am a complete stranger, and I wave back because I want to seem friendly. I want to make it known that the kind of girl who sits on a bench with an apple is a nice kind of girl.

I sit in my grass under my shade tree with a book and people don’t even notice. Nobody wants to look at the ground, because then they might seem shy or sad. If you look at the ground people want to know what’s wrong. Never mind that you might be looking for wildflowers or admiring the leaves or watching your step. Nobody looks at the ground, so if you sit on the ground, you might as well not exist. I don’t understand what’s so wrong with the ground. It can be quite a lovely place, and there’s almost always enough to share. I wouldn’t complain if someone wanted to share my grass or my shade tree. I’d like them to know that the kind of girl who sits on the ground with a book is a nice one.

If it’s such a strange thing to sit on a bench, and the ground is unacceptable, then where should I sit with my apple or my book? I think here is the problem: the kinds of people who are passersby would likely suggest I not sit at all.

People must not sit anymore, or eat apples, or read books.