And the moral of the story is: There is no story.
(i would fix the tense shifts but i've got things to do)
Lady at the SuperAmerica on 21st around 10am this morning. I was on the way back to class and running a tad late and filling up and digging around for gum. Weather: Hazy, but noticibly comfortable and warm, especially for November.
First let me describe our woman: She drove a beige van and wore gray baggy sweats and a mismatched sweatshirt from some business corporation I've never heard of. Black hair in a messy-cute ponytail.
But you can tell, at one point our lady was one of the cool, popular, hot *chicks* in her day. She was maybe even the prom or homecoming queen, that is if she wasn't too much of a badass. Looks a bit skinny Catherine Zeta or cooler, mid-30s Parker Posey.
Went to college, might have graduated but might have dropped out. Doesn't matter now. Met some guy, he knocked her up, they got married. He knocked her up again and she had to quit her job. He makes a decent living now though, doing whatever unfulfilling job he does. Makes more than enough for all the necessities. Not excessively more though.
She probably still diets and goes tanning and running or does yoga now when she's not dropping off and picking up the kids. Wife was definitely wilder and cooler and happier around 1992 or 1993 though. Wife misses it, and one time her husband said something spiteful and out of line, or checked out another woman crudely and started a fight. Bought her Pearl Jam tickets to be romantic, but mostly to clear his conscience. For once, they went together and she flashed the crowd while boys that are still in college hooted and hollered while husband was checking his voice mail. When she came back, husband bought her a drink and put his hand in her pocket and she put hers in his. Rare Romantic Gesture. In his pocket is an only slightly worn black leather tri-fold wallet with too many business and credit cards and a couple pictures of kids. They're not much older than 7 now. The night of the concert she got piss drunk.
Sure, she's still pretty, but the kids have taken their toll on her. Creases are growing on the sides of her eyes and the tanning beds have not been kind. Necessity has caused her to give up her smaller, cuter car for an comfortable-affordable-practical Ford Minivan. Of course she doesn't love it, but she's to the point where she doesn't necessarily care all of the time.
But the lady's looking at my car, she's looking at me. She hears the mix cd that's in. (I always leave the car on "accessory" so that I can listen to music when I'm filling up) She says "Hey...hey," and I'm startled because it's 10am and nobody ever talks to anyone at the gas station. "What's that song you're listening to?" Her voice is a bit scratchy, either she never quit smoking from when she started in high school or the kids gave her a cold. I say I'm not sure at the moment, but I remember all the track listings are on my computer at home. I put the gum in my mouth and reach in the window. I'm snapping the gum and popping out the cd out and handing it over to her. "Here, take it. I can make another," and I'm paying for my 5 dollars in gas.
Lady at the SuperAmerica on 21st around 10am this morning. I was on the way back to class and running a tad late and filling up and digging around for gum. Weather: Hazy, but noticibly comfortable and warm, especially for November.
First let me describe our woman: She drove a beige van and wore gray baggy sweats and a mismatched sweatshirt from some business corporation I've never heard of. Black hair in a messy-cute ponytail.
But you can tell, at one point our lady was one of the cool, popular, hot *chicks* in her day. She was maybe even the prom or homecoming queen, that is if she wasn't too much of a badass. Looks a bit skinny Catherine Zeta or cooler, mid-30s Parker Posey.
Went to college, might have graduated but might have dropped out. Doesn't matter now. Met some guy, he knocked her up, they got married. He knocked her up again and she had to quit her job. He makes a decent living now though, doing whatever unfulfilling job he does. Makes more than enough for all the necessities. Not excessively more though.
She probably still diets and goes tanning and running or does yoga now when she's not dropping off and picking up the kids. Wife was definitely wilder and cooler and happier around 1992 or 1993 though. Wife misses it, and one time her husband said something spiteful and out of line, or checked out another woman crudely and started a fight. Bought her Pearl Jam tickets to be romantic, but mostly to clear his conscience. For once, they went together and she flashed the crowd while boys that are still in college hooted and hollered while husband was checking his voice mail. When she came back, husband bought her a drink and put his hand in her pocket and she put hers in his. Rare Romantic Gesture. In his pocket is an only slightly worn black leather tri-fold wallet with too many business and credit cards and a couple pictures of kids. They're not much older than 7 now. The night of the concert she got piss drunk.
Sure, she's still pretty, but the kids have taken their toll on her. Creases are growing on the sides of her eyes and the tanning beds have not been kind. Necessity has caused her to give up her smaller, cuter car for an comfortable-affordable-practical Ford Minivan. Of course she doesn't love it, but she's to the point where she doesn't necessarily care all of the time.
But the lady's looking at my car, she's looking at me. She hears the mix cd that's in. (I always leave the car on "accessory" so that I can listen to music when I'm filling up) She says "Hey...hey," and I'm startled because it's 10am and nobody ever talks to anyone at the gas station. "What's that song you're listening to?" Her voice is a bit scratchy, either she never quit smoking from when she started in high school or the kids gave her a cold. I say I'm not sure at the moment, but I remember all the track listings are on my computer at home. I put the gum in my mouth and reach in the window. I'm snapping the gum and popping out the cd out and handing it over to her. "Here, take it. I can make another," and I'm paying for my 5 dollars in gas.