Friday November 19, 2004
	It's a week before Thanksgiving and I'm at a shopping mall.
	At the Mac cosmetics store a woman is applying lipstick while looking into a metal framed mirror (the magnifying type) and when I look too long she turns her female face toward me and says: "Pink Poodle. It's my favorite color." "It's pretty," I say.  I'm wanting to appear balanced and mature and whole so I smile and I say: "I'm shopping for my woman."      I'm not shopping for my woman.  I'm browsing and later on I'll get a coffee at Starbucks or maybe an Orange Julius and if I come across some dark chocolate I'll probably buy it. "I like it when my woman wears black lipstick," I say.  "Does Mac sell black lipstick?" "They sell something they call Cyber," says the woman (then pointing it out to me).  "It's a blackish-purple colored lipstick." After a pause I say: "I like it when my woman wears black lipstick and then outlines it using a cherry colored lip pencil." "Excuse me," says the woman then moving to another mirror.                          - In the shopping mall, this shopping mall, there is a place where shoppers can take their children to play.  It has a thick rubber floor and there are plastic structures to climb and comfortable seating for tired adults.        "Is this seat available?" I say, pointing.  "Help yourself," says the woman.  She smells good and she isn't wearing a ring. Merry Christmas Darling by the Carpenters is coming from the mall speakers and I am eating a red Swedish Fish and after I swallow it I say: "Are one of those yours?"  After a pause she points and says: "That one." "That's a good looking kid," I say.  It ain't a good looking kid and it's wearing only a disposable diaper and while I'm looking the kid pulls off the diaper and there was poop being contained in the diaper and when the diaper comes off the poop falls onto the thick rubber floor and it bounces once and that's when the good smelling non-ring wearing woman yells (like a seasoned fast talking auctioneer): "Pick your shit up and bring it to me.  Did you hear me?  Pick up your SHIT, Taylor." Just once I want to meet a kid named Mark or Harry or Jack or Richard. "Nice chatting with you," I say then standing.                           - At the Harry and David store (on the second floor) a woman is examining a small wooden crate containing four pounds (1.4 Kilograms) of Royal Riviera Pears. I want her. "It says they're so big and juicy (the pears) you can eat them with a spoon," I say, smiling.  "We have Harry and David pears every Thanksgiving and Christmas," she says.  "So do we," I say.  I lied.  The only thing I can count on during the holidays is knowing that my grandmother will be rolling her own cigarettes and that on either Thanksgiving day or Christmas day I'll be asked to unplug her toilet and no matter what I say (or do) my grandmother will insinuate that it was me that plugged it (when in actuality it was her and it's always been her). "I'm Norm," I say, then extending my hand. "Beth," she says.  "Live around here?" "Yes I do."  She's interested.  I can feel the blood being re-directed to my dong.  Tell her a story, Norm.  Reel her in. "Good meeting you," she says then moving away from me. She's getting away.  C'mon Norm. "Beth?" I say. "Yes?" "One time I came across a Robin, that's the state bird of Michigan, and it was in a nest and it was sitting on eggs wanting to hatch them," I say. "That's so sweet," she says then smiling. "The Royal Riviera pairs reminded me of how I came back to that nesting Robin and how I replaced her eggs with little apples I plucked from a tree on the way to the nest." After a pause the no longer smiling Beth says: "Why would you do something that?" I say: "If the Robin didn't know that her eggs were replaced with apples perhaps the apples hatched and if they did hatch what kind of birds were they and if they didn't hatch how long did that Robin sit there wanting to hatch the apples and when she looked at the apples didn't she see that they somehow looked different than her eggs and if she couldn't tell the difference between apples and eggs does that mean that she shouldn't have custody of her eggs and would you like to go out with me?" Says Beth: "Huh?" "It's just one of those things people think about," I say. "Nice meeting you," says the woman. PREVIOUS   HOME   NEXT