1000 miles

my 1000 miles of driving hit me like…  um… I was going to say “sledgehammer,” but it was more like a tsunami of fatigue and I had the good fortune of having a mattress nearby to collapse into late in the afternoon. one of the only benefits of under-employment, beyond having more time to go to the gym where, after my workout, I sat there transfixed, watching people hoist themselves up and down the climbing wall. Including one woman who was talking on her cellphone as she climbed. And it made me think, I wish I could do that. and then I thought, no, she was just a metaphor of some kind.

later, dinner out with my friend M whom I never seem to be in sync with. we met at a Greek restaurant. I arrived first and as soon as she sat down, she immediately started telling (not asking) me which appetizers we should order, which included beets, even though I am rather grossed out at times by beets. she was just so forthright about ordering, and it sort of unnerved me. Like when she said, I think we should order the Taramosalata, I was taken aback and I now regretting saying “Yes, sir!!!” And after that, we both struggled to find some connective tissue wavelength, which did not quite happen. She was there for the milonga that the restaurant hosted every Wednesday night… she would ask me a question such as “how was your mother’s birthday?” but disappeared into the tango haze as I attempted an answer.

I said I wish I could be as bold as you. She said, you can be. Just try. But I’d like to be bold in a different way. Bold without aggression. Now that is something I can strive toward.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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