Posted by: canaryinacoalmine | June 26, 2006

1986 Epcot Center

Looking out the window I faltered in my thinking. People actually live here? I began sweating before the plane hit the ground. I could do this. The interview process was the easy part. Ask a sales gal to sell herself to strangers. Scoff. In Vegas. Okay, that’s just funny. Selling myself in Vegas? My Father is so proud of his middle daughter.

Later that day, after the interview, after I was asked questions like, “Why a man hole cover is round.” After I questioned the questions with responses of, “Because they can’t be square. Why did Marge soak in it?” After all the fluff that gets me by, he and I sat across from one another mid afternoon in a bar that made night fall inside. We were virtual strangers after a chance meeting weeks prior while he was visiting a friend. This time, I stayed in town to visit with him.

Wryly with a shade of sheer delight that tends to stir trouble I begged,

“What do you have to lose by telling me? I don’t even live here.”

“Not yet”

I lied, “Stop. That’s crazy talk.”

Shrugging his shoulders and squinting his eyes in a manner that states he could sell ice to an Eskimo, he hesitated a moment to long, and willed time to hang over us like a storm cloud. Venturing out of himself, “Okay. I work for a casino. And I have a degree. I didn’t always have the best role model when it comes to women.”

He raised his head for the first time and catches me staring him down, then wavers. Verbally, he bleeds the truth. I look at him wondering if he’s ever asked himself the question. The answer is there for the taking and I took the plunge. Maybe I wasn’t the one who needed help, maybe – that distinction belonged to my Vegas Boy distinctly himself. Maybe. Who am I kidding? The two of us own it. Over the next two hours I gather he’s never asked himself why he’s single at 34 and still tossing women aside like dirty laundry. After all the people he’s pushed away and allowed to push him away, the man has a hard time buying into the concept of love and happily ever after. So, he’s formulized a way to recreate himself into one who wouldn’t have to buy into a concept of faulty love. And, like the Wizard of Oz, he’s learned if you hide long enough behind a curtain of bluff and principle, people stop trying to find out who you are in the first place. Like the man who wears the Mickey Mouse costume at Disney World, I figure.

How many times have I fallen in love with a man whom my mind inflated to such mythic proportions that I could stare right at him and still not see him clearly.

And then suddenly I listened to him, I listened to me, and I forgot what fear was. Not that I was ever one to claim it but, I forgot how fear felt. I made the decision to make a monumental move. My life, in Texas, is comfortable…just like that. A sentenance that takes no thought to form. It’s easy.

I began counting the moments watching the hand tick a circle on my watch. Coyly smiling back at him I knew a secret that would make him wonder what I was up to. Make him question if the shell I hide behind is as transparent as I fear it to be.

I, of all people, deal with the choices I have made in the past and will contend with the one’s I make in the future. There are times in this life that make you feel helpless, make you feel like a puppy dog unable to find it’s way home in the rain. And even though my heart wants to give in, throw in the towel and fulfill my college dream of joining the Peace Core….I kind of like my shoes.

Advertisements

Responses

  1. tell that boy you’re not moving to vegas! forget it babycakes, i’m not letting you go.

  2. thursday night i’ll be across the street from you again…we’ll talk then…

  3. Uhh, so I don’t get it – you are or you are not moving?

    I’m glad your back. I had been chanting “Come Back to Texas.” There’s nothing wrong with Ohio, except the snow and the rain.

  4. Yeah, so are you going or what???? I am leaning towards the fact that you are… so cryptic.

    Scott

  5. Your writing is beautiful. I don’t think i would have let you move to Vegas tho. We don’t see each other as much I would like but I still love you. That’s right.. your boy Aje loves you. Your place is here… here with us…. Houston is your home. Your recent past, your present, and your future has included and hopefully shall continue to include ME!
    I miss ya and I hope to see you soon. I’ll meet up with ya anywhere except Escobar… sorry… no Escobar ever again.

  6. So glad you’re back. Beautiful post. You always have an eloquent way with writing.

  7. TRY TO GET ON THE JOB AS A ROULLETT SPINNER…. I LOVE THAT GAME.

  8. Mysterious as always. Keeps us guessing. Good things happen to good people. Keep meeting, keep experiencing and just let things happen without worrying about “The One.” Your time will most definitely come just as it did for Greek.

  9. Um, do you me, Plantation? Well, if so, all I can say is I’ve found the latest One. I think there are lots of “Ones” out there, depending on where we’re at at the moment.

    Sass, I’m as lost as the rest of your flock. If you decide to stay, horay! If you decide to go, for whatever reason, good luck!
    Either way, I’m sure it will work out the way it needs to in your life.

  10. sass…

    somehow, someway, what you said right here hit me like katrina hit new orleans.

    i have some thinking to do.

    thank you. wherever you go, whatever you do, don’t stop this.

  11. I don’t know why the title is 1986 Epcot Center (maybe it’s some hidden reference I don’t get), but I find it quite funny since I lived in Florida in 1986 and went to that damn thing way too much as people came to visit.

    God I hated Florida.

  12. I think comfortable isn’t always a bad thing, unless you get so clouded by the comfort that you deprive yourself of another land full of happiness…that’s IF such a land exists. I like to hope so.

    I suppose in the end, only you know when it’s time to stay or time to go. You’ll make the right choice – the choice that is right for you, not “them”.

  13. Brian – the title – was indeed a message to my siblings. They got it. I was looking at a photo of the five of us kids where my sisters and I had side pony tails. We were fashion icons then, right?


Categories

%d bloggers like this: