A middle-aged man stepping into the cafe in a two-year old’s barrel-chested waddle caught his attention only because people in line kept shuffling aside.  He was not big, but his stride took a wide berth, elbows spread, toes pointing out.  He seemed to an uncomfortable degree oblivious to the disorder his gait caused.  He cut through the line at two places on his way down a corridor to the men’s room.  The stir enlivened the morning atmosphere.  People took to each other with comments that elicited laughter, and he, in a corner chair, laughed as if he’d heard the comments himself.  A few leaned in to each other.  Mouths opened wider.  He noticed it becoming infectious.  The line had de-formed into a cluster when the man re-emerged and waddled around it on his way out the door.  He watched that man let the outside traffic react to him as he stepped into the street and crossed it diagonally.  Even though he found it remarkable to notice the cluster in the cafe form into a line again, with now a snake’s flexibility to it, allowing for contact between its parts, he couldn’t pull himself away from watching the instigator of it all disappear somehow out in the open on the other side of the street.