Today I was walking to the dentist. It was raining. I was wearing a very opaque purple thick and frumpy NYU sweater with ripped jeans, my hair tied up. I was walking on concrete, which I never seem to get used to, especially in the rain. I might even reveal to you that despite the rain I was wearing flip flops – the dentist is really close and I overslept!

Usually, in a past New Jersey/New York life, I would look down and hustle forward in the rain, knowing I couldn’t see through my glasses anyway. But people are so unashamed of the water in the sky in Seattle. It rains every day. So I looked up.

There, in the distance, I saw it: a pastel pink puffy plastic coat waiting for the light to change at the opposite side of the street. “This is why I should always carry my new nikon with me!” I thought. Quick as I could, I took out my phone and switched to camera mode. I knew I didn’t have much time. The light changed: “walk.” Frantically, I started taking pictures as fast as I could (shutter mode what?). As she approached, for it was a “she,” I was more and more impressed. She was wearing very carefully maintained skinny jeans carefully folded up at the ankle to reveal – could it be? It was! The most stylish, brown, …suede boots. Suede? In Seattle? In this rain? Of course, I thought to myself, I have two leather purses.

She was getting close to me now. Would she notice my unabashed attention? Would I get the dynamic shot I was hoping for? I didn’t see her face, I was too nervous.

The moment was gone, she was gone. There was water droplets all over my phone. I hastily wiped it with my sweater and looked at what I got. Her face was careworn. Maybe she was on the way to the dentist too, or something equally unpleasant. She had not noticed me in any of the pictures I took.

I picked my favorite picture, and as soon as I got to the dentist and was told to wait (of course, sigh), I posted it on instagram, where you can see it if you are curious. It turns out, it was when she was closest, where you can really see the utter lack of joy in her face, the careful outfit, the crinkles in her pink coat, that I liked the shot the most. The bright optimistic light of the walk sign gave her no joy.

The dentist appointment was really painful. The anesthetic didn’t seem to work at one point, and after a minute or so of trying to endure the pain, I begged for the needle in my gums again.

I wish I could say I, walking home, my face swollen from the anesthetic, but relieved, and remembering the photograph I cherished, looked up in the rain, and noticed my surroundings, loving life. But instead I took a leaf from that woman’s book. I called my husband and discussed the terrible price of having my wisdom teeth removed, and barely noticed any walk signs, stop or go.