The Thoroughbred

Sitting at a table, laboring over an eight letter "Bogart & Bacall" title that I still can't recall, for a crossword that will go unfinished, I overheard the owner/operator of the restaurant giving orders to an employee. It wasn't what she said, or even how she said it, but simply delegating a task that could have easily been done herself. I sat back in my chair and felt sorry for the worker who had to stop what he was doing to fulfill the new chore set before him. For a moment, I was the thoroughbred who ran so fast the saddle fell off and took the rider with it. I was very pleased and content to be there, bound only by the last half-dozen of that morning's crossword puzzle. Maybe if I were stronger I'd be able to continue working retail, doing whatever I'm told, saving the little money and pride I have for the rainy days. That actually sounds more like weakness now to me. I took a final sip of Dr. Pepper from my styrofoam cup and decided I couldn't be there any longer stood up in a hurry. Just then, the radio began playing Bill Withers so I sat back down and started recounting my immediate fortunes. 

     "Tonight, I am going to Tucson to hear some music."

And so I did. It was wonderful night for music, too. An inspiring night even. That night I went to bed feeling better about myself for the first time in sometime and maybe this living spree isn't such a free fall after all. 

Please Don't Be Boring

I opened my notebook and began writing carefully in the bottom right corner of the page. My penmanship was terrible and there were too many words. I scribbled it out and moved to a different corner for another go at it.  This time I gingerly started tearing it out as not to draw any attention from the rest of the class, but in the process I accidentally tore some of the content of the note. Unsatisfied again I moved to the top right corner, but this time simplified the message down to, "killer boots." I gave a quick glance over my right shoulder and just as quickly determined that to any observer, my intentions must have been obvious. Maybe if I waited till the end of the class it would be better. Perhaps it'd be more memorable and craftily executed if I just casually passed it to her on my way out the door. I remembered that I had a few questions for the instructor after class so it was gonna have to be that moment or not at all. I looked up a the instructor in his peach colored shirt, awkwardly attempting to set up the power point. He reassured us several times that it was new and that he needed a moment to figure it out. At one point he groaned and half-desperately beseeched the class for anyone technologically savvy and computer literate. A portly fellow in a Perfect Circle shirt and unfortunately un-ironic facial hair offered his assistance. I took this as my cue and calmly tore the freshest attempt out, folded it in half, then turned to my right. I set the folded piece of paper on her table, made eye-contact, nudged it toward her, and turned back around just as soon as she had it in her hand.