Summer afternoon on a mountain
The Pipe Den was a small store in the Arnot Mall near Penny’s. The Record Shop next door was owned by the same company out of Rhode Island . Since most of the business happened after 4 p.m. as guys got out of work, I had the whole day to dust, arrange, and read. I did a lot of reading. I read books, magazines, newspapers. The highlight of my day was Laurie, a really well-built young blonde who worked at Sears on the other end of the mall. She came in for cigarettes every afternoon. She loved to flirt and I fantasized that she wanted my body but I doubt that was true. There were no windows to the outside so I was forced to watch people through the store display window. A heavy set blonde woman who worked in Penny’s was always in a hurry. In the morning she’d rush out of the store, her high heels clicking as she chugged her way to the coffee shop. A few minutes later she rushed back. It’s not good to be in such as hurry all the time. Time doesn’t like people who rush constantly. I can’t prove this, of course, but the evidence is against habitual rushers. People rush because they think what they’re doing is very important, and this is a way for them to feel that they are important. We’re all important but very little that we do requires hurrying. One day the woman scuttled out of Penny’s as if popped out by a cannon. She returned a few minutes later with a plastic glass of milk and a donut. Her high heel caught on something and she flew forward landing on her face. The donut rolled to the right and the milk flew straight ahead as she hit the floor with a sickening thud. A couple shoppers lifted her up and helped her into the store. The maintenance man, a middle aged guy with eyes tired from boredom and alcohol, appeared and mopped the floor. He found the donut, sniffed it and tossed it into the waste can. Within five minutes the area was clean, shoppers walked back and forth to stores and it was as if nothing had ever happened. Our society is immaculate that way. Accidents. Mess. Clean up. Carry on. The Penny’s woman was gone for about a week, healing I suppose. When she returned she didn’t rush anymore. Next week: The young man who fell and never got up.
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