every day i die

“You know I hate to ask, but are friends electric?”—Gary Numan

Last Wednesday, I decided to walk to the center because it was a pleasant spring day. I had my sunglasses on and my faux Adidas track jacket. I was listening to my ipod. A man approached me and asked if he could ask me a question. Initially, it was surprising that he would choose me, because after all I was listening to music and cutting a fast pace, too. I always cut a fast pace.

I don’t know how to reply to this kind of thing. Sometimes I ignore it, sometimes I’m indulgent. He didn’t look unsavory, so I told him sure. Do you have a soul? he said. Maybe, I said, but I’m in a rush. That was the end of it.

In retrospect, it makes perfect sense why this guy approached me: I was looking really fresh, my perception of the world was mediated by various technologies (ipod, sunglasses), and in general I probably appeared alienated, etc. How could someone like that have a soul? This seems like a safe assumption.