Two Exchanges

Today I came out of the ice cold computer lab I’d been working in to soak up some warmth from the California sun. I was sitting on these big cement steps they have outside. This woman came up to me, and said “Are you okay?”
“Why?” I said. “Do I look depressed or something?”
“You’re like a chameleon.”
“What?” I said.
“You’re like a chameleon.”
“Why?”
“You just are.”
“Huh,” I said. I took out gum from my pocket.
“Let me have a piece,” this woman said.
“Okay – here.”
“Let me have 2 pieces, one for my boyfriend.”
“Okay, take two.”
“That’s my boyfriend over there.” She motioned to an African American guy sitting nearby holding an acoustic guitar. “I used to be racist,” she said.
“...oh yeah?”
“When I first met him I said ‘Get away from me, n*gger.'”
“Huh.”
“That’s what I said, I said ‘Get away from me, n*gger.’”
“Well I’m glad you got over your racism.”
“I met him this morning.”
“Oh.”
“Here,” She had been holding two pieces of paper during our conversation, and now she handed one to me. It was a pamphlet for a nearby Tae Kwon Do school. “Watch this,” she said, and started kicking the cement steps.
“Huh,” I said. I put down the pamphlet. “Cool.”
“I kick steps and walls and stuff but not people.” She slid the pamphlet closer to me. “Here, write down your name and information – I’m gonna give you a call.”
“Why would you call me?” I said.
“I’m a producer. I have my own production company.”
“I just started at this school,” I said, pushing the pamphlet back to her with nothing written on it. “I don’t really know anything.”
“No, it’s okay – you can learn! I have some DVS’s I need you to edit for me.”
“What are DVS’s?”
“Digital Video... Sss,” she said, like the S stood for the one at the end of Videos.
I stood up and started backing away, towards the doors of the school. “I hang out around here all the time so I can catch the newbies!” she said. Then she laid down on the step and stretched her arms out. “I’m gonna get so tan!” she said.
“Okay, well, good talking to-”
“Do you get tan?” she said.
“I’ve got a pretty good farmer’s tan going,” I said, motioning to the clear line between my pale shoulder and slightly less pale arm.
“You’re a farmer?” she said.
“No, I have a farmer’s tan.”
“Will you sow your seed in my field?” she said.
“I’ve gotta go,” I said. “See you around.”

A couple hours later I was walking from the computer lab to my apartment, listening to my ipod. I heard someone call something to me. I took off my headphones and looked up, and saw this old woman leaning out from a second floor balcony. She just waved, and then pointed down to the lawn. On the grass were two of those Downy fabric softener balls that you put in the washing machine. I picked them up.
“Throw them?” I said.
She didn’t say yes, but just held out her hands. I tossed the first one up, she caught it one-handed, then caught the second one the same way. Then she just waved again, and went back inside.
“Bye,” I called.