My favorite form of punctuation is the ellipse. Because so...much can happen betwixt those three little dots...
Monday, February 26, 2007
None of this is true*
I hear robots speak. Not robots, but... People speaking robot speak. Does that make sense? For instance, for example, i.e., Ok...
I could be coming up to you, say, at a counter of some kind. You know how there are counters everywhere, right? Like at Circuit City or the ice cream parlor or a sandwich shop. Counters. The help desk.
Help.
So, there we are, two humans engaged in a regular ole run-of-the-mill customer/merchant exchange and I say to you... Whatever it is I say. Pardon me sir or ma'am, but could you, perhaps assist me with the following...
And then... This is when it happens... The merchant opens his or her human looking mouth and .... Robot speak. Don't look at me like that. It happens. It does. It's freaky as hell when it does too, like...
"Hey, can I get that on wheat with... Do you have some of that hearty brown mustard instead of the primary yellow stuff?"
And then...
BOOT MEEP MOOT MER
POOT EET OOOF MOOT
DEEPAH MEET MOO TOOT?
And I stand there and gape for a moment all crooked with question marks and say,
"Pardon?"
And then...
DEET BOOMP POT DOT DOOT!
POOKAH MOOT ME DOP DOP!
Freaks me right the hell out. Every time. Man...
Then, you know what else happens?
I'll find babies in strollers or shopping carts at the mall or wherever and... Just roll them one aisle over. Like at the super market. The mom's all checking out the canned tomatoes and screek screek screek screek I'll very gingerly like a ninja, GINGER NINJA!, I'll nestle junior in the cereal aisle.
No, I don't really do that.
That's awful.
I would never do that.
But I think about it.
That high-pitched yelp that only a mother can yelp when they've temporarily mis-placed their child. The exhale of held breath when they find them 1 aisle away. That quick jerk of the head left... Right... To make sure no one saw, no one noticed.
Heh heh heh.
And then... well...
Other things.
Other stuff...
happens.
I don't know if I can talk about it here. "Here".
But once.
One time.
Some times.
I'm in love with a married man. I have been for a while now. Happily married. His wife is just as beautiful as their new baby girl. Blond. Willowy. Is that the word? Like graceful bendy branches. Reeds. They're like reed people, but him...
I dreamt about him years before I met him. We were standing on a dock. And he had dark hair and he was taller than me. Tall enough so that I had to tiptoe to embrace him properly. It was either dawn or twilight. Those two times of day when the surface of the water could be a luminous grey. He was wearing a trench coat of sorts, but maybe my brain added that to the memory later.
So we embrace.
Me on tip toes and
I know this man.
His essence.
His smell.
The texture of his hair on my face.
I've always known it.
The heat of our chests.
The fit of his arms around me as I'm...just...barely...lifted off my toes and into his arms.
Then he sets me down and holds me arm length out in front of him and... I wish I could remember more of his face, but... I just can't. No matter how hard I force myself. He was prickly though. I remember that. Scruffy. He looks at me.
Deep inside me.
And we say no words.
And have an entire conversation
and know
and know
we both know
that he must swim away now.
And he looks at the sea
and he turns back to me
then rests three fingers on my right cheek, light and cool
and then
he jumps.
And I'm left standing there alone...and wake up as he swims
away.
And I knew then and I knew when I woke up and I know now, I've always known. That this was the man I would spend the rest of my life with.
3 years later, I met him at a pub in Dorchester. His real name was Christopher, but everyone called him Dock. Dock. And I knew. The second that dark head turned in my direction, the second our arms touched as I bumped up against him to get to the bar. And we were introduced. "Just call me Dock. Everyone else does."
Dock. We were on a dock.
It was 2 whole months into it, on St. Patrick's day to be exact. I remember because I had bought this short, god it was so short, green dress with daisies on it that I wore with my white go go boots and we walked around the pool table knocking in the occasional ball, and around...and around... And at one point I was sitting on the table and he was standing in front of me and we didn't care that people were watching and he... Kissed me like he was about to join the army and then he held me at arms length and he said it.
"I'm married."
And I just broke.
Right there on the pool table like a green bottle of glass.
That night we had the most amazing sex on his carpeted stairs. The best sex I'd ever had in my life.
Later that fall I ended up working bar back at his daughter's christening party.
I served his mom and dad side cars and Miller Light.
It was the first time I'd seen him in a suit.
He looked great in a suit.
I remember him walking me home after he found out he was going to be a dad. I remember standing on my front steps in porch light and listening to the clinking and music of the party at the VFW across the street. How scared he seemed. How he grabbed my ass like he used to and I held him there... at arms length and made him look me in the eyes and I said to him
with every ounce of honesty I could muster.
I made myself believe it, I wanted it so bad to be true.
I said it so hard that I meant it.
I looked right into those Irish blue eyes and said,
"Christopher. You're going to make a great Dad."
And you know what?
He believed me.
Every other Wednesday and one Saturday afternoon a month he comes over. We don't talk anymore. There's nothing really to say.
*For the Scheherazade Project theme: Lie
Labels: The Scheherazade Project
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"none of this is true"
Hey Plimco!
Catching up at S-Project. Loved this piece - a lot. Great imagery and I love the initial aimlessness and the closing intensity.