One-one-thousand... Two-one-thousand... Three-one-thousand...
I don't know why I'm here.
Over the summer I had become amazingly proficient at pretending I'd forgotten she worked here. And the first half dozen visits, my act was entirely unnecessary. She was never there. After a time, I figured she must have quit. But she hadn't, of course, and I would see her now and again, pretending to ignore her, ignoring the fact I am a horrible pretender. But I would swing by, more often than not, to see her like this.
And I'm here again, months later. And so is she.
My heart shivers the tiniest bit when I see her, and I turn my back quickly. I am suddenly spinning backwards in time, inhabiting the body of the twelve-year-old boy I forgot I ever was.
There is an eventual confrontation.
I say words I immediately forget saying. She gives me a look, telling me with her frown that I sounded like a complete fuck. I am embarrassed and can feel my face burn red. She is so composed, giving nothing away. She obviously feels nothing in seeing me. For the three consecutive seconds I bring myself to look directly at and into her eyes, I can see nothing revealed behind them. We exchange quick words, the obligatory
question/answer yes and nos that come with the territory of employee/customer relations.
As I am passing her to leave "Merry Christmas" she says. I double clutch. I do not know what to say. How do I not know what to say? The only response to Merry Christmas is another Merry Christmas. Even the Jews know this, and they're fucking Jews.
What the fuck.
I open my mouth and only poop comes out. I leave quickly.
This has been the third in a presumably long line of unfortunately purposeful encounters, but the only thing I remember concretely are her eyes, for those are, I assume, the reason I go. The reason I need to see her. Because there used to be something there that is gone, something that used to make me feel like someone I never really was. And every now and again, I just need to check. To see if it is really gone or if maybe it just got... lost.
But I can never find it.
Driving home, the radio is off. The light turns red 100 yards away. I accelerate. I have no death wish, there isn't another car in sight. The brake just seems so pointless.
The light turns green just before I hit the intersection.
Over the summer I had become amazingly proficient at pretending I'd forgotten she worked here. And the first half dozen visits, my act was entirely unnecessary. She was never there. After a time, I figured she must have quit. But she hadn't, of course, and I would see her now and again, pretending to ignore her, ignoring the fact I am a horrible pretender. But I would swing by, more often than not, to see her like this.
And I'm here again, months later. And so is she.
My heart shivers the tiniest bit when I see her, and I turn my back quickly. I am suddenly spinning backwards in time, inhabiting the body of the twelve-year-old boy I forgot I ever was.
There is an eventual confrontation.
I say words I immediately forget saying. She gives me a look, telling me with her frown that I sounded like a complete fuck. I am embarrassed and can feel my face burn red. She is so composed, giving nothing away. She obviously feels nothing in seeing me. For the three consecutive seconds I bring myself to look directly at and into her eyes, I can see nothing revealed behind them. We exchange quick words, the obligatory
question/answer yes and nos that come with the territory of employee/customer relations.
As I am passing her to leave "Merry Christmas" she says. I double clutch. I do not know what to say. How do I not know what to say? The only response to Merry Christmas is another Merry Christmas. Even the Jews know this, and they're fucking Jews.
What the fuck.
I open my mouth and only poop comes out. I leave quickly.
This has been the third in a presumably long line of unfortunately purposeful encounters, but the only thing I remember concretely are her eyes, for those are, I assume, the reason I go. The reason I need to see her. Because there used to be something there that is gone, something that used to make me feel like someone I never really was. And every now and again, I just need to check. To see if it is really gone or if maybe it just got... lost.
But I can never find it.
Driving home, the radio is off. The light turns red 100 yards away. I accelerate. I have no death wish, there isn't another car in sight. The brake just seems so pointless.
The light turns green just before I hit the intersection.