A whirlwind is the only way to describe those next few days. They came and went, and I survived. My wallet was a bit heavier, but my ass was dragging. If I had to smile at one more disgruntled -- but spirited in Christmas -- holiday shopper, I swear I would have been sent to Hell instantly for lying. Trust me, my smiles were not sincere, and it is so hard for me to fake my feelings even now. My facial expression usually tell people my thoughts LONG before my tongue confirms it.
Tuesday had finally arrived. It was a much deserved day off from work and from being fake. I needed to let my hair down in a big way, so I was looking forward to dining with Mother -- not to mention the fact that I was terribly lonely, and I needed a friend. Besides work on the holiday weekend, the only real human interaction I'd had was banging on my shag carpet walls to tell my neighbor to keep his bedroom somersaults to a civilized level. I never figured out what he was doing over there, but I heard every hiss and pant. The carpet wasn't working as decor, nor was it working as a sound barrier. From the sounds being produced, I deducted that he was neither homosexual nor heterosexual. To this day, I really don't know what kind of sexual he was, but he could have been featured on Wild Kingdom and no one would have doubted that he certainly belonged in the jungle. I never really met him formally, and I never even knew his real name. To myself, I called him George...George of the jungle. He was Arkie cute, even. You know the type: broad shouldered, his main fashion statement was his ball cap with an ad of the local gas station printed on it, and nice-fitting faded jeans. I kind of wished he played on my team, but I was afraid to play on his ball field -- even as a visitor. I never saw anyone entering or leaving his apartment, and not all of the noises sounded human...It is just one of those mysteries that I'll never know until I get to Glory. I think I'll have to ask the Lord for a replay of just what was going on over there, but I'm not sure if he'll show those unheavenly parts, but he might just whisper it in my ear.
As you can see, I was so bored and lonely that I was spending my idle time trying to figure out what my neighbor was doing, and I was imagining every type of creature possible responsible for those noises, so I needed an escape......So, I called Mother.
"Yes, doll, I'd be happy to go to dinner with you," she said when I called her. She said it in a strange way, and her voice was different. Yeah, it was still sweet and nice and all that, but there was a little something extra. She told me to meet her at her duplex which was on Morrison street just a block off of Central. Now, Morrison street, it turns out, was the gay ghetto at that time in the Spa City. Several gay people lived in that neighborhood. I suggested that we just meet at a restaurant, but she was determined for me to meet her at her place, so , of course, I agreed. She did specify that we would be eating at Acapulco's.
Tuesday had finally arrived. It was a much deserved day off from work and from being fake. I needed to let my hair down in a big way, so I was looking forward to dining with Mother -- not to mention the fact that I was terribly lonely, and I needed a friend. Besides work on the holiday weekend, the only real human interaction I'd had was banging on my shag carpet walls to tell my neighbor to keep his bedroom somersaults to a civilized level. I never figured out what he was doing over there, but I heard every hiss and pant. The carpet wasn't working as decor, nor was it working as a sound barrier. From the sounds being produced, I deducted that he was neither homosexual nor heterosexual. To this day, I really don't know what kind of sexual he was, but he could have been featured on Wild Kingdom and no one would have doubted that he certainly belonged in the jungle. I never really met him formally, and I never even knew his real name. To myself, I called him George...George of the jungle. He was Arkie cute, even. You know the type: broad shouldered, his main fashion statement was his ball cap with an ad of the local gas station printed on it, and nice-fitting faded jeans. I kind of wished he played on my team, but I was afraid to play on his ball field -- even as a visitor. I never saw anyone entering or leaving his apartment, and not all of the noises sounded human...It is just one of those mysteries that I'll never know until I get to Glory. I think I'll have to ask the Lord for a replay of just what was going on over there, but I'm not sure if he'll show those unheavenly parts, but he might just whisper it in my ear.
As you can see, I was so bored and lonely that I was spending my idle time trying to figure out what my neighbor was doing, and I was imagining every type of creature possible responsible for those noises, so I needed an escape......So, I called Mother.
"Yes, doll, I'd be happy to go to dinner with you," she said when I called her. She said it in a strange way, and her voice was different. Yeah, it was still sweet and nice and all that, but there was a little something extra. She told me to meet her at her duplex which was on Morrison street just a block off of Central. Now, Morrison street, it turns out, was the gay ghetto at that time in the Spa City. Several gay people lived in that neighborhood. I suggested that we just meet at a restaurant, but she was determined for me to meet her at her place, so , of course, I agreed. She did specify that we would be eating at Acapulco's.
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