An Impromptu Lesson In Human Anatomy

In Which There Is Too Much Information

Caught up in the heady whirlwind of the inestimable luxury of summer vacation, when I have three whole days of working in the morning only (I suddenly forget, do college students attend school during the summer? No? What did we do all that time? Oh, that's right, summer jobs), I ventured out this afternoon, after a nap made less restful by the heat, toward the post office, intent on procuring boxes. If my readers are still with me after that appallingly long sentence, let them be aware that it is still 98.6 degrees outside, in the shade, and that I am beginning to feel grateful when the temperature inside falls to 90.

So. Out I went. I passed the orange juice shop, which mostly sells a variant of Tang, and happened to glance down the alley next to it as I walked. It took me a moment to process what I saw.

An older gentleman, perhaps in his late 60s or early 70s, was standing there in this alley perhaps a ten minute walk from Taipei 101, with his shirt lifted up around his armpits and no pants whatsoever. Let me be clear about this. His pants were not hiding somewhere, waiting to spring out at him, he had not laid them aside momentarily in order to facilitate the washcloth bath he was engaged in at the time, they were simply absent. To avoid any other confusion, there were no undergarments present either. He stood there, washing himself down, considerately presenting his back to the street rather than his front, mooning the world. Now, I fully understand the attraction of a cool bath on a hot day, and I was just bemoaning the lack of a lake or an easily accessible pool a few hours ago. Getting naked in an alley in a city with the population density of Taipei (9,588.5/km), though, in the middle of the day... that's over my limit.

Maybe the water from the tanks gets cooler at ground level.