My name is Jenny

The music from Movinos spills out the front door
onto the sidewalk
and that's where I see Nicky
dancing. "Hey what's up?" I say as a smile
wears my face.
He's all lit up with the
rock and roll in his body.
He looks me in the eye and starts talking in that
rich voice with the smoothed over edges of a New York accent.
I don't even remember what he said
just how he said it
and how good it felt to listen.

A woman walks up and looks at his hand
puts hers out to shake as she says "My name is Jenny. What's yours?"
No eye contact, she won't look up just stares at the ground
"Hi, I'm Nicky."

Time slows and I watch the judgement in my mind pass by like a reel of commercials for the reelection of some liar.
It's obvious that she's impaired in some way; could tell within 10 seconds. Impulse: walk away. But I resist. Observe.
Admire the way Nick stays open.

Slowly rotates and turns to face me but only looks at my feet, reaches out to shake my hand
"What's your name?"
I shake her limp hand that will not grip and say: "Didj."

"Didj?" she repeats

"Yeah."

Nick asks conversationally "What's going on?"

"Collecting cans." She points to the plastic bag in her hand which has the outline of several soda cans.
"I don't like my name." she says.

"What name do you want?" asks Nick.

"Sarah Beth. I like that name, I wish I was Sarah Beth."

"Why don't you change it?" Nick asks.

"It's too much trouble, too much money, have to go to court-"

"No you don't, you just have to decide to change it-"

Her face tightens. "NO! My name's Jenny." She says with a grimace, looking at the ground
walks away, feet shuffling with the plastic bag of cans banging against her leg.