On a BART train rumbling under the San Francisco Bay, Fox spots a sign that decrees NO AGGRESSIVE PANHANDLING. In rancid fur with a cavernous stomach, Fox shambles over to an auburn-haired woman in a peacoat and perm cut. With a closed continuer of strawberries in her lap, she swallows water branded as natural stream hydration. Fox will never cool his urban fur in such a scene.
“Wow I love your perfume. Is that strawberry I smell?” “Yes, this is The Migrant Strawberry Workers of Central Valley Perfume.” “Wonderful. Care to share?” “Of course, Fox. By the way, I see you everyday on this 8:09 a.m. train and I’ve wanted to tell you that you really need a long shower.” “Well this perfume will have to do.”
When she hands Fox her perfume, he sprays a strawberry scent at the woman’s blue crush eyes. She yelps like a kicked canine. Snatching her water bottle, she pours filtered relief over her eyes. “Fuck you Fox!” “You must know that migrant workers swelter under a switchblade sun for dirty dollars a day. That’s why your womanhood smells so sweet.”
“What? You should find a shower and a job!” “Is the labor of a job I don’t have my value to society?” “Yes, of course.” “So my foxhood has no value?” “You’re valueless. A nameless wetback worker has more value.” “I’m so hungry. Can you share a real Central Valley strawberry? I’m done with your strawberry perfume.” “I don’t have any food to give you.” “I’ll cut open a window in my stomach. There’s no food in there.” “That’s not my problem. These strawberries are only for me.”
As the train stops at Embarcadero, his nonaggressive paws extend palms-up before a human stuffed inside business casual clothes. “You should take a shower, Fox. You stink!” “If you give me some change, I can buy myself a shower.” The human’s skin-encased skull shakes his head without gaping into the foxhole of his pocket. “I hear some change jangling in your pocket.” “I’m getting off at the next stop.”
Fox twists his sight back on the perm cut woman, her face still wet as she swallows a strawberry.
“You got some red on your green peacoat.” When she tosses away the stem, his paw catches and gobbles up three saw-toothed leaves before they tumble onto the transit floor.