[i]☼ ○ ▬
Driving in a semi-rural city I’m not familiar with. A
particular area on a side street sparks my interest. I park the car. Breaking
all rules of physical law I somehow manage to flip over my car and carry it
with my left arm like it was a skateboard or something. Exploring the back
alley of an abandoned industrial building. I admire a block of brightly colored
graffiti on the wall. I figure out that where I’ve been roaming about is highly
trafficked by the homeless. There’s this cliff runoff where people frequently
take dumps and relieve themselves. It feeds down into a feces puddle. I do my
best to avoid stepping in it but carrying my skateboard-sized car makes it
difficult.
▬ ○ ☼
Waking up around 11:30 a.m.
Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.
All day shift at China Wok.
Delivering an order to the healthcare and rehabilitation
center on Camelot Drive. The girl at the front desk called it in. I remember
seeing her a few months ago. I remember her being really pretty. I get nervous.
We make the exchange. As she’s signing the credit receipt she comments about
her lack of math skills to add up the total. “It’s okay,” I say. We exchange
smiles and that’s it. Until next time...
Toasted Peanut Butter Sandwich. Goldfish. Honey Green Tea.
Snapping the peas on the down time and playing poker on my
phone.
It’s about 30 degrees outside. And when night falls it only
gets colder.
Darren’s here to work the dinner shift. An order for
Davenport Lane is sitting on the counter. He keeps raving about some girl who
lives there that gave him a “look” last time he delivered to that house. I know
who he’s talking about because she’s a regular.
Darren: “C’mon. Let me take this one.”
Me: “Dude, I know who this girl is. She’s like 40 years old
and she lives with her boyfriend! Why do you care?”
Darren: “It doesn’t matter how old she is.”
Me: “Okay. I’ll let you take this order...on one condition.”
Darren: “Okay. Fine. What?”
Me: “You have to give her that ‘look’ back.”
...
He texts me later with disappointment, “It was a guy.”
Asian Pear and an Apple.
It’s getting down to the last hour. I take my final order to
Retreat Court. A kind girl in grey sweatpants, a green Trix cereal t-shirt, and
glasses answers the door. She hands me a five-dollar bill as a tip and with
gratitude thanks me, “I really appreciate you coming out here.” After
the exchange, and without even thinking about it, we share that “look” Darren
and I were talking about earlier. You can feel it. It’s just like an extra
second or two of a stare. I always get giddy after moments like.
Off work and back home.
Fried Shrimp with Broccoli, Carrots, Onions, and Rice in
Garlic Sauce.
Skype chat with Aysena. We keep getting disconnected.
There’s some emotional tension on the bleakness of things
ever working out between us
Ays: “I’ve seen the future. It will hurt us.”
Me: “You can’t know the future.”
She holds up Leo Tolstoy’s A Confession, a book she’s
currently reading.
Me: “What does Tolstoy say about this?”
Ays: “It says what is the truth of a life. He says when you
are smart...when you are reading everything...you are near to think like the
whole life is evil. He says that it’s maybe true. Talk to simple people who
work and just take care of their children...you know just simple stuff who
don’t think about truth of a life.”
Me: “I am not simple.”
Ays: “You’re not a simple man! You’re so abnormal. You’re so...James
Robert Smith.”
Me: “What about you? Are you a simple woman?”
Ays: “I’m not strong. I’m not strong at all. I can ruin
something and don’t think about it. I’m just a little woman that don’t think
about anything...just think about myself...my happiness.”
Me: “You are not alone. Everybody thinks about their
happiness.”
Hot Chocolate.
Sleep 3:30 a.m.
[i] Bengal.
No comments:
Post a Comment