Downtown was what it usually is on a hot spring afternoon. I was walking, heading somewhere, possibly to a shop or to meet someone, I can only guess. I was wearing a nice suit and a pretty good life or that’s what I think.

A middle aged man, colorfully dressed, was walking a few steps ahead of me. Suddenly he stopped, watching towards his feet with enormous joy. I couldn’t see what he was looking at until I walked past him. He had found a quarter (you’ll think this is stupid but don’t worry, then it gets even more trivial). The man took the coin, put it in the front left pocket of his battered jeans and continued his way.

Such way was rapidly interrupted by the abrupt clash of shoulders with a young brunette who at that time of the year was already showing off a golden tan. Both participants of the tiny accident looked at each other in a flash, insulting within their respective minds. The lucky quarter man walked on, and so did I.

On the corner a blonde teenager crossed us perpendicularly. The brat tried his aim by throwing a bottle top to a nearby garbage can. The bottle top hit the border of the can and fell sadly on the sidewalk. The teenager walked on, without paying attention.

When I turned my gaze to the lucky man again, he was already crossing the street. A furious horn was heard and the car dodged him by an inch, the left mirror touching his ridiculous shirt. The driver was just a boy.

So far this collection of situations doesn’t even deserve the title of anecdote. It becomes an anecdote when it happens twice in one day.

Three hours and fifty-three minutes later I saw the collection again. It wasn’t in downtown this time but near the airport. The situations happened in the same order and lasting the same time, but on this occasion the one who found the quarter was another man, the one who shouldered him was a nun, the thrower was a sweet little girl with freckles, the bottle top was replaced by a crushed candy wrapper, and finally the driver was an old lady, her eyes half closed, as if she was trying to intimidate the Devil.

Getting to the point, I witnessed this concert 17808 times. I know the durations (the total time is 33 seconds), the statistics (6235 drivers were women), the details (the coin is always a quarter and heads-up). I know that the average of steps from the quarter to the asphalt is 7.7; 61 % of times the thrower was between 15 and 25 years old; 2 out of 10 vehicles were vans and there never was a motorbike or bus. My mind is a database of trivialities so vast that there is no room for the memories of my life anymore.