daily tide of poorly dressed flesh
Some days I come to work in a bad mood. (Okay, it’s most days now, but who’s keeping track?) It used to be that I would just get on the parking garage elevator and think a few bitchy thoughts about my fellow passengers, and then the mood would dissipate and I’d trot into my office in my normal happy state.
This morning, though, I felt my face become blanker and harder as I walked through the tunnel through the wake of someone’s cheap cologne, clicking my heels loudly in defiance of someone’s noisy luggage dolly clacking over the tile. Why the hell would anyone need to haul a flowered pilot case to work early in the morning? Why does the deli around the corner have to stink so badly of garlic and salami every single day? I can’t hold my breath all the way through it, and that lets me know that if I had to hold my breath underwater for any amount of time, I’d die. I’d inhale big buckets of garlic, salami, and cheap cologne, and then I’d just die.
weekend plans
This weekend I’m supposed to try to buy a car. Saturday at 11 AM, to be exact. Will I get one? I don’t know. I have to, though. Will I end up with a piece of shit at 29% interest, driving home with gritted teeth and that single tear running down my cheek, just so I don’t have to drive to Austin and back the next day with my car full of smoke and ominous sounds that the Prodigy CD can no longer hide?
(Remember I always have to drive to Austin half my Sundays to get my kids back from their dad’s.)
No… let’s hold hands right now and promise ourselves that, no matter what, I’ll come out ahead. I’m going to close my eyes and plunge into this situation like a fireman into a goddamned burning building. I’m gonna save not only the baby, but the cat and all her kittens, too. I’ll save your freaking TV, Grandma. Don’t worry. You don’t have to cry. I even saved your receipts. Your insurance is gonna pay for everything. No, no… no need to hug me. Well, okay… maybe just one dozen tamales…
Also, I’m planning to have fun and buy shoes. What’s that you say? They’re one and the same thing? Well, yes. You are right. But still — I’m gonna pack it all in. I’m gonna get it all done and come back smiling with the big fish in the cooler and a suntan, baby.
