I don't even know why I did it, I just... did it.
I picked up. And I shouldn't have. I had planned on changing my cell number if Kevin B. called about the excavation. Even before he called, it was a done-deal to get a new number if he called. And, sure enough, immediately after he phoned, this task landed on top of my personal "inbox." (You know, the one in my head.) I just... hadn't gotten around to it.
And it had rung again, and again, quite a few times, but with each and every call I had carefully checked caller ID before answering. And salsa had not called again. I was already directing new contacts to our home number instead of my cell. Just hadn't gotten over to the Sprint kiosk yet. Been shopping near it; forgot to... get 'er done.
God! I just-- What was I doing?!
somewhat queasy
Just trying to extricate myself, I guess. Trying to escape from a moderately queasy social situation. Yep, while Christx shopping at Penny's I ran into Shelly and Co. in the parking lot. The "and Co." consisted of yet another new boyfriend (his name escapes me), and two of her kids, the two younger ones. Her thirteen year old, Jordan, was at the skating rink, skating, probably talking with boys.
"On our way to pick her up now, in fact," Shelly said, scanning the lot for her Jeep.
"I won't keep you then," I said, smiling cordially, redirecting my body language toward the inside of the mall. "I gotta find some... You know, got some shopping to--"
"You haven't even started yet?" This from Taylor, her voice laced with the incredulousness of an eight year old.
"I've started," I replied, my tone going up an octave in mock-defensiveness. "Shuup, you nut. I gotta buy my girlfriend something."
Shelly asked how Dawn was doing right about when Taylor slapped my elbow. I looked down at her and scowled. She stuck her tongue out at me and giggled.
And more. It kept going from there. It's not like they had perishables, not like I was in that big of a hurry. I unhanded the frosted glass of Penny's heavy door. Which prompted a hand pumping from New Guy. Learned a bit about him, where he worked, where he was from, an ambition or two. Plays co-ed softball in the summer. Turns out that's where they'd met: on the diamond. Hadn't started dating, though, 'til two months ago.
Meanwhile, while part of me is trying to stay sociable, there's another part trying to get the heck outta there. I'm thankful she didn't wrap me up in another sloppy bear hug, and I'm glad she's found somebody. Again. Somebody who can, you know, carry on a conversation. With a total stranger. For an extended length of time. Impart quite a few personal details even, most of which were unsolicited. Some were solicited; I mean I didn't wanna be rude. But, after a while, don't people get it that the party's over? We've greeted, caught up plenty; time for normal people to part company. Hello?
And so, you guessed it, right about then I hear the first strains of "The Flight of the Bumblebee."
And I pick up.
"You like Kibbles 'n Bits, huh?"
I'm silent, caught between deciphering the significance of this question and waving goodbye to Shelly and the rest of 'em.
"You're the dude, aren't you? You've been following my wife, too."
Inwardly, I'm seeing them off, all friendly like, perhaps too friendly, because here she comes again, back for one more Columbo, and, yes, she'll wait 'til I'm off the phone... and then it hits me: it's Kevin.
"I know a guy, pal."
"You don't know anybody," I said. "This is a wrong num--"
"No. I know a guy. And I'm gonna find you. Then he's gonna find you. You want dog food? He'll bring you some dog food."
"Whatever." I hung up.
I guess Shelly could see the concern on my face, so she said, "Who was that?"
"Nobody. Nothing." I chuckled. A little too emphatically. She could tell that that was not a friendly call. But whatcha gonna do? I made something up, and we conversed a while longer. Then they drove off and I shuffled into Penny's. I started toward the food court, all the while shivering. Nothing around me seemed like it was... for sale. Finally I had to sit down on one of those old man benches. The guy sitting across from me watched his wife's red leather purse. Literally. He wouldn't take his eyes off it. It sat there next to him and he never quit looking down at it.
FORWARD to what happened next
BACK to that earlier phone call with Salsa Guy
BACK to an earlier dust-up at my local Wal~Mart
OVER to HerbNation HOMEPAGE