Sunday, October 29, 2017
Thanksgiving Maybe.
I was in a
laundromat.
Yes, it was a laundromat. I was there. It was Thanksgiving. It must have been 1983.
I can’t see how that would matter. The year I mean. I sometimes can’t see how any of this matters. Then, now or ever. But it runs thru my head. I can never tell if it wants to be said or if I just want to say it.
I can never tell.
It was Thanksgiving. I said that.
I was
invited to dinner. I needed clean clothing. I was in a laundromat.
I said that.
This is a story that needs carefully told. There are things I wanna know but there are things I don’t really want to hear.. Some of those things are the same and I have to be careful. It’s kinda foolish. It’s my story. I must surely know what’s in it. Let’s see.
I was supposed to meet a girl.
I met a girl.
She came in while I was washing my clothes and reading. Always reading.
She was badly dressed and carrying a large shoulder bag. She had badly arranged hair and the facial ricktus of the totally self-involved, perhaps tormented by inner demons. She could have been attractive on a better day if she were in better circumstances. She seemed homeless. She moved thru the place checking all the coin returns and looking in the washers and dryers for the forgotten quarter or crumpled dollar that might be found. She was gone in less than the time it took me to make my assessment of her and her circumstances.
Called away from my reading and my reveries it took me a moment to realize I had about $200 on me and for a mere tenth of my wealth I could make all the difference in her day.
Her Thanksgiving Day.
I went to the door and surveyed the parking lot of the little shopping strip but she was gone. I never saw her before and I’ve never seen her since. It’s 34 years. There’s no reason to think about it but I do. A moment lost. I’ve even had the thought that thinking I might have done something of value is no more than conceit. I berate myself for the larger things I haven’t done in those 34 years and belittle myself for thinking, instead, of some chance thing I might have done.
I might have done.
I was supposed to meet a girl. I said that.
I was invited to Thanksgiving Dinner to specifically meet a girl. Her friends, our co-workers, thought we would make a couple. I was aware as was she that we would be there so as to make friends, perhaps even leave together and in the future come back together. Maybe to dinner.
She carried herself well and was a pleasure to see unexpectedly. She had long, blond hair and a nice almost constant smile. She was beautiful. Sometimes after we had met over work or such I was left thinking of something I wished I’d said. It was a nice feeling I still enjoy remembering.
I didn’t go to that dinner. I didn’t meet that girl.
I decided I couldn’t face the idea of eventually becoming a disappointment.
Not a new experience.
I was in a laundromat.
It was Thanksgiving.