February 14, 2005
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His Sister Was Six Feet Tall
The desperate stench of misguided love (the loneliness/horniness disguised as “destiny” and found in heart shaped cards, bridal magazines, and other distinctive venues) has charged the air today as society is reminded by the cuddly capitalists at Hallmark to find someone to copulate regularly with before their existence expires, and they die alone.
I’m not really all that jaded, but I have been a bit nauseated by the shameless come-on’s I’ve received today, and I blame Valentines Day.
The most recent flirtation took place only minutes ago, during my bus ride home from work. A man who—if it weren’t for his obvious and acute awareness of them, I honestly wouldn’t have noticed—had a massive case of crater face, and the sour breath that only accompanies nerves. He was 35 –45 years old; pot bellied and stooped, and seemed embarrassed of himself. As the bus rocked and bobbed as Chicago busses do, he leaned close to me to tell me something. I was startled by this sudden invasion of personal space and looked up from the Granta I was reading. Just then, the bus hurtled his forehead into mine. We reeled back, rubbing our heads. Grumpy, I turned back to my reading. A couple of seconds later, his blushing face was back, too close for comfort.
“Are you six feet tall?” He asked.
A man bumps my head to ask me that?!?!
“Umm..yeah.”
Inexplicably, he flinched, and sat back down. When he rose at his stop, he told me,
“My sister was tall.”
Wow. I sincerely hope that my brothers won’t grow up to use that line (is that even a line?!!?) on any Amazon goddesses they find.
“Great,” I said.
He left.A skeleton of a man with a filthy do-rag leaned over and said, “That white boy want to be yo Valentine, baby! Why don’t you go catch him?!?”
I smiled and tried to escape into my Granta. A middle aged, desperately lonely, bumbling man with no confidence—I thought—what a catch!
The skeletal man laughed loudly, as if reading my thoughts, “Well, if you don’t want him, then hows about me?”
Oh brother!
Comments (5)
This is quite funny, as it is perfectly true to how stranger react in the everyday world. About the Educated Guess Ani cd, it is quite lovely, and I quite love it. There are new things she explores, but also sounds that she falls back on to make more than one melody to one harmony. And bubbles to me are like happiness–they pop, and sometimes it takes a while for them to pop, but they also fly. Happy love day.
lol!!!! Oh, this story reminds me all too well of my few months living in Chicago, during which time the Jeffery Express became both my savior and personal hell. Great for getting out of Hyde Park… bad for meeting weirdos on the way to the Loop. Oh, good times in Chicago. Sometimes I miss the place!
I think I should have mentioned this in the story: the Gates, thankfully, were not publicly funded. The artists poured their own money into this project (I cannot imagine why…or for that matter… how they had that much money to pour) .
The court summons, unfortunately, is not fictitious (sp???).
OH! also, meant to say this like two comments ago — I LOVE WILCO!
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