"AOC. What's that?"

Two guys, one covered in tatts, talked loudly next to the tourist vans they drive, while their tourists were at the temple. Something about taxes, then "no one looks out for the workers; it's the employers who take everything!" 

 

"You should support AOC next time," I said. "What's that, AOC?" the one guy asked, baffled. I said her full name. "Mayor of something?" "No, a congresswoman who supports workers." 

 

"I just live under a rock," the more heavily tatted one said. The other guy asked if my camera is digital. Yeah, but it looks retro, I said. "Poor person's Leica." He said he was a photographer. I asked if I could take his picture, and he asked what for, so I showed him some of my instagram feed, mostly abstracts, which popped up first. He liked the rusted metal photos. But he preferred taking the pictures to being in them. I asked the other guy if I could take a photo of his tatts. Nah, he said. "I see I struck out!" I said, as Lilith and I climbed the hill.