Showing posts from September, 2010

Karma Revealed Rev 1

Leaving my car at the burger joint, I decided to walk over to the store. When the a customer approached the front door, I slipped in behind him and perched just inside on an old overstuffed armchair, faux leather. Let the story begin. The first sign that something wasn’t right was when Elizabeth saw him at the register waving the cashier away. She was still outside and knew he was focusing on the customers in the store, and who might see him, and hadn’t thought it through. That’s odd, she thought. Instead of going inside, she went back to the car and eased into the driver’s seat. She knew that he would never notice her  unless she moved around. She saw the cashier, looking scared, and very stressed, motion to the other employees and nod towards the the back rom. There were at least 6 of them on the floor and they all moved together being very careful to avoid looking at the cash wrap and the open register in front of the regional manager, Jerry. Jerry, Jerry, Jerry. How could

Seduced by Chicken Rev 1

I was going to run in, grab the lamb and get in the checkout line. What a positive, sensitive girl I am.  In less than 5 minutes the cart was already filled with 4 bottles of wine, some rice crackers with nuts in the 5 gallon tub, and a box of granola bars and I was just approaching the section of the warehouse where the meat was displayed. I swerved in and out of the deli section in search of the lobster ravioli they carried a few years back, and as I rounded the last corner, I caught the scent of the roasted chicken. I walked right past the giant platters of fake sushi and shrimp, the giant pies and cakes, the gallon containers of hummus, on a direct path to the hot box full of dozens of individually roasted chickens, marinated in an intoxicating blend of spices, that was nearly driving me insane. I lusted for a small piece of the crispy greasy skin.Hmmm,  I wonder if I could grab one, casually stroll down the deserted luggage aisle, pop off off the lid and grab a little bit from t

The Bitch Rev 2

I love attending gardening workshops. Learning all the quirky little things about growing a perfect rose, or remounting stag horns from people with passion, or to be more precise, an obsession. It was mid way through the day when I spotted a friend over at the plant sale, another reason these day long workshops are so fun. Great deals from people’s back yard cuttings or specialty nurseries. I called called out “hey, Sarah” and she looked up and smiled. I headed in her direction through the narrow aisles. I was maybe six feet away when I saw another woman, who I will call Jessie, that I don’t particularly like. As I continued walking Jessie met my eves then turned her back and blocked the pathway with her cart- diverting dozens of people including me into a different section of the maze. The look she gave was so unexpected and so mean it took my breath away. Fuck it, I thought to myself, and headed back towards the entrance and out to my car.  There was still over 45 minutes till

Upper Body Strength Rev 1

I have no upper body strength. I mean no significant upper body strength. I can lift a 11 year old 55 pound dog into an SUV, I can lift a 48 lb bag of dog food long enough to pour it in its airtight container in the garage. I can haul potting soil or mulch from the car into the yard, and it turns out, I can stay on top of a camel while it is standing up or sitting down without landing on my head or ending up on my ass in the sand. I know, I’ve done it. I’ve watched a bunch of other people do that too, many heavier, and much less fit than I am. Maybe the camels have been trained so if peopl’es butts leave the saddle/blanket thing, it stands up or sits down faster. I love to sail. I decided it would be really cool to crew on the Star of India, a tall ship moored on the bay in San Diego. I signed up for an orientation session, which was held one evening on that ferryboat that houses the maritime museum. On the designated night I arrived, and found the room filled with about 300 people,

Confidence Rev 1

Johnny turned fifty last week, and has added a few pounds to his girth since his marriage to Vidanya three years ago. Always clean and neatly dressed, but he is beginning to pop a few buttons, so he always carries a chain of safety pins in his pocket. At a glance you wouldn’t know that he is bi-polar, legally blind and has never been able to hear or speak. He lived in a world of visual memories frozen in time, serious gaps in common sense, and vibrations without sound. He does know how to write but I’m not sure if his knowledge is from school, before he lost his sight at age 12 from an illness. He met his wife on the internet, the fifth girl he’d been engaged to since he decided he wanted to start his own family. He’d lived with this mother since birth. His marriage didn’t have a significant impact on his living arrangements other than the sweet soft smell and touch of the woman who now shared his bed, and the squirming and wiggling of his young son as he tossed and turned in his sl

The Encounter Rev 1

She stepped into the train and headed right, up the stairs to the mezzanine. Every seat section (two facing a wall and 4 sets of 4 seats facing each other) had a least one person in them, but she wanted to sit here, the quiet part of the car at this time of day. In the back of her mind she considered whether she should try upstairs, then decided there was plenty of room here, and it was pretty calm- no one on a cell phone, no loud raucous laughers, just readers and sleepers. Where should I sit? Back left: An engineer type, dark pants, and ill fitting rumpled, white shirt partly un-tucked, over a bulging middle aged belly, black belt, dark tie and dark zippered jacket. Cheap shoes, faux leather, lace up, probably from a discount store, home styled haircut, cheap glasses, small brown bag lunch, peering at me expectantly. PASS Back right- Young girl, long blonde hair, manicured nails painted pink, short skirt, 4” platforms, tattoos peeking over the top of her blouse and around her