It's sixteen miles to the Promised Land
It's amazing how some one who you find to be so annoying can hold so much sway over your heart.
I think he was upset about the changes that Work is undergoing, but he held it together--didn't get too sulky. He talked about the things he would buy in the LIquidation if he weren't going to Lost Wages (Sterling would be proud of that one)...
The thing that got me,
the thing that broke my heart a little bit...
Well, okay, maybe not "broke" but, the thing that cold-cocked my heart was when he said that he'd see us on the 21st (He won't, he can't--we're closed) and turned around to sit back down and his 1996 Olympics shirt was tucked into his underpants; the same kind of underpants that my dad wears...I've folded a lot of laundry for extra TV time in my day, it's not a creepy Southern thing to see underpants that aren't yours...but that's more for me to tell myself, I think.
I couldn't tell him that he wouldn't see us then because I couldn't bring myself to tell him we were closed.
It'd be funny if it wasn't so sad, you know?
I thought about telling the Board of Trustees, but then I imagined her delighted reaction and I was sick with myself for even thinking that.
I guess what gets me the most is that he's like a broken down version of my dad.
It's hard to imagine Sterling in that state,
but sometimes when he's yapping on and on there's just a quick flash of Sterling, in another world.
Instead of him ordering Americana-Sugar-Coma, Sterling's the one leaning on the cane and fishing for a small change tip with his dirty fingernails. Probably working out in his mind what ten percent of two dollars and twenty-five cents is. Especially now. Now that there are glimmers of a long and difficult time somewhere down the road. My heart skipped a beat (and not in a sexy fashion) when Sterling told me he just couldn't for the life of him remember how to spell Albuquerque (not that I can spell it...)because the letters just didn't look right anymore.
"V.P. Has Lengthy Discussion with Fryer"
I think he was upset about the changes that Work is undergoing, but he held it together--didn't get too sulky. He talked about the things he would buy in the LIquidation if he weren't going to Lost Wages (Sterling would be proud of that one)...
The thing that got me,
the thing that broke my heart a little bit...
Well, okay, maybe not "broke" but, the thing that cold-cocked my heart was when he said that he'd see us on the 21st (He won't, he can't--we're closed) and turned around to sit back down and his 1996 Olympics shirt was tucked into his underpants; the same kind of underpants that my dad wears...I've folded a lot of laundry for extra TV time in my day, it's not a creepy Southern thing to see underpants that aren't yours...but that's more for me to tell myself, I think.
I couldn't tell him that he wouldn't see us then because I couldn't bring myself to tell him we were closed.
It'd be funny if it wasn't so sad, you know?
I thought about telling the Board of Trustees, but then I imagined her delighted reaction and I was sick with myself for even thinking that.
I guess what gets me the most is that he's like a broken down version of my dad.
It's hard to imagine Sterling in that state,
but sometimes when he's yapping on and on there's just a quick flash of Sterling, in another world.
Instead of him ordering Americana-Sugar-Coma, Sterling's the one leaning on the cane and fishing for a small change tip with his dirty fingernails. Probably working out in his mind what ten percent of two dollars and twenty-five cents is. Especially now. Now that there are glimmers of a long and difficult time somewhere down the road. My heart skipped a beat (and not in a sexy fashion) when Sterling told me he just couldn't for the life of him remember how to spell Albuquerque (not that I can spell it...)because the letters just didn't look right anymore.
"V.P. Has Lengthy Discussion with Fryer"