Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Corner Karma
I’m going to give myself a nice running start at this fine new Tuesday by disgorging an old scrawling that I’ve held onto for nigh these many years. I was reminded of it by a few harsh words I let myself say last week to someone who really needed them, and then I suddenly found this little dialogue again in an old notebook. It ain’t much, but really folks, it’s Tuesday - you don’t get much.
* Are you standing here?
* What?
* I’m sorry, beg pardon, ask you a question?
* What?
* What is the name… the name of this place, this restaurant?
* K~. K~. It’s right here on the window.
* You see, I don’t speak - can’t talk with the… my mouth and head are not cooperative and I always never (degenerates into mutterings)
* What?
* I can’t speak the, say the words any more, native language is english, but the reading of wording is thinking of talking with (more mumbling)
* Listen. Listen.
* What?
* Can you hear me?
* Yeah.
* This is not the time to start with me.
* Well you see I -
* Did you hear me? This is not the time. Don’t make me get mad here.
* Well I’m just trying to make myself....
* Don’t make me. Just don’t make me. Not here. What did I say to you?
* It’s not the time.
* Right. It’s not the time. Go on, now.
(unintelligible muttering, wandering away)
I’ve decided that this is Karma Week at the Chucklehut, for better or worse, as karma so often is, and this was Corner Karma. Sometimes you just gotta stand up for yourself and your little spot outside the crowded restaurant. I respect those who struggle to survive against the challenges of homelessness and mental illness, I honor their plight - but sometimes I just can’t deal with them. Maybe that impairs my cosmic credibility but I’m looking back on that night of two years ago and I still feel justified. And a little guilty. Damnit. Okay, I guess my work’s cut out for me. And isn’t that what Tuesdays are all about?
