Monday, August 27, 2012

Guys or Gold

Sharon was extra excited. Not only was she actually in London, but she was competing in the 2012 Olympics. And not only was she competing in the 2012 Olympics, but she was now moving into the Olympic Village...without her parents. It was like going off to college and she was only 17 years old! Could this get any better?

Oh, yes it could. Not only was she in London at the 2012 Olympics living in the Village without her parents, so were about 6,000 guys! And each and every one of them had fabulous bodies...oh, the butts she got to drool over; every teen girl's dream.

She'd already been told the second Olympic motto. "What happens in the village stays in the village." She liked the idea of that. Mom and Dad would never find out if she let her hair down a little. All those years of training...no life except in the gymnastics training center...no friends to speak of - how could you tell if someone liked you for you or your possible Olympic status? Besides, what kind of friends can you make when all you do is practice, practice, practice? Other gymnasts, that's the kind. No ice cream or triple fudge brownies were allowed to pass your lips...until now. No staying up late, because practice started at 5am...until now. All she had to do was get thru her event and then...then, she could relax, even if just for a day or two. Then it would probably be back to the grindstone, to prepare and improve for the next Olympics - four years down the line. Gotta be stronger, faster, limberer...limberer? Sure, why not.

Everyone was so friendly in the Village. Why not? We all had so much in common. Simply ask one question and an hour later, you realize that you almost feel like you've known each other all your life. This was SO much better than back home, where no one could relate to practice, practice, practice.

Coach Andrew always said "No noise after 11pm. Lights out at midnight. No men in the women's wing. No alcohol. You're here at the Olympics to win the GOLD, not a husband!" Sharon and her friends just laughed at him. The swimmers were hot and the girls liked to sit in the common room and watch them walk around in their skimpy suits. No need to look at any faces. Each body is a 10+, more than enough to keep a girl happy. Sharon tried hard to stick to Coach Andrew's rules. She knew it was best for her, but her body told her differently. She was still feeding her body as if she were dancing all day long, but all she was doing was watching. So much wasted energy. The dining hall was a great spot to meet up and eat and make new friends. Anything could happen. One day she looked over and saw two Italian hurdlers dressed only in shoes and socks, jockstraps, neckties and bowler hats on top of a dining table, feeding  each other lunch. It was almost more amazing than actually being in London for the Olympics. A gold would only make it that much better.

Sharon's event was early in the games. She liked that, because it meant she got it over and then could party for a change. She heard the revelers upstairs from her each night, partying far into the night. She couldn't wait to join them. Before that, though, she had to practice her routine one more time...always one more time. You'd think she'd be comfortable enough, having gotten here, but she just couldn't get herself to stop. Her eye was certainly on the prize...but it was on more than a gold. She'd met Mike and he promised to introduce her to that super hot swimmer. First, the gold. Then...well, then she'd see where it took her.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

They're Called Weights

Daddy's home! Daddy's home! I must run to the window and bark to let the world know! "WOOF!"

Mommy always tells me "No. Stop. Flex no." but I'm just bursting with excitement about Daddy being home. Maybe today he'll lie in the floor with us again. Wait...I have to go outside. I must run to the door. Come on, Daddy! Let me out...what's taking you so long? "Woof!"

YAY! Daddy let me and Kita out. There's a bird. I love running. "Grrrrrr" Darn. It flew away. There better not be anything else in my yard. Oh, Kita's over there. Let me go see what she's doing. I like to smell her butt.Oh, I gotta pee. This is a good spot...need to cover that smell.

Daddy's snapping his fingers, time to run inside - gotta be first - and get a treat. He always gives us crunchy treats. Mommy gives us chewy treats. It takes me longer to eat Mommy's treats. If I eat mine quickly enough, I can help Kita eat hers. She's slow...but it seems to me that maybe she's getting faster, because I don't seem to be getting as much of her treats as I used to.

Daddy's getting those funny things out; that means he's gonna lay on the floor with us! YAY! It always makes me hungry when he lays on the floor. Wonder why. Gotta sniff his head. I don't get to do that very often. Lick it...salty. Yum. He yells at me to look out, but I know he needs me to be near him in order for him to be able to enjoy laying on the floor with us. He takes those funny things in his hands and moves them all over - picks them up over his head. It makes him grunt and sweat a lot. Kita likes to lick his legs. Not me, I focus on his face. Gotta let him know how happy we are that he's on the floor with us.

Sometimes I sit and watch him move those things around. If he's trying to get them to stay in the air, he's got more of a challenge than he might think. I've tried to stay in the air to lick Mommy's face while she's standing at the front door, but I haven't figured out how to do that yet.

"WOOF!" What was that noise? Gotta run to the window...jump up on the chair. Gotta see what's out there. Let them know I'm here. Poor Kita doesn't know how to jump up on the chair. Daddy's not getting up off the floor. "WOOF!" Maybe he didn't hear me the first time. Doesn't he know there is another dog out there??

Food.

Oh, look, there's water here, too. I think I'll have some.

Mommy sits on the couch while Daddy moves those things around. He moves them while he stands, then he lays on the floor on his back. He's not scratching his back on the floor, so I don't know why he likes to lay on his back so much.

I think I'll bite Kita's cheek. Wish there was a blanket here. I like to sneak up on her under the blanket. She never sees me coming that way. HA!

Daddy's laying on the floor still. Maybe he needs another lick on the cheek. Or maybe his lips are dry. Oh, maybe there's food on his lips! I better go check. Ouch! He hit me with that thing he's lifting and moving around. He yelled at me to look out again. Why do I have to look out? He's the one who should look out!

I jump over his belly. HA! I'm too quick for him. He doesn't seem to want to play. Why else would he be on the floor? Kita likes to just sit and watch him. She's weird.

Oh, look. Food!

I just don't understand Daddy sometimes. Now he's laying on the floor. Now he's sitting. Now he's laying on the floor. Now he's sitting. Some game I guess humans play. Maybe I'll sit at his feet and lick his face each time he sits up. He'd like that, I bet.

He sure is breathing hard. And all that yummy sweat...where do I begin? He made himself taste yummy just for us. He's such a good Daddy. I love him so much. He's standing up now. Time to chase him. Oh no! He's gone into that room where I get all wet and stinky. They say I smell "Good" when I come out of there, but I just need to go roll in something that is really good smelling out in the yard after that. That "good" smell is just too icky for me. Don't wanna follow him in there. For some reason, he likes it in there. Goes in there all the time. Silly Daddy. I think I'll go check on Mommy  now. She probably misses me terribly. Bye.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Through the Years

Lois decided she was going to meander down Dearborn Street...again. She loved wandering in and out of the beautiful art galleries and handmade jewelry shops. She'd been down here a lot lately. A gorgeous piece of jewelry had caught her eye and she was having a hard time resisting it. She visited it regularly. It looked so good on her, she had to admit. Unfortunately, it would mean a month of working overtime and probably two weeks without food in order to purchase it. But she could visit it and pine over it as much as she wanted. That was free!

She parked her car near the end of the downtown section and walked into what she considered to be perfect quaintness in timeless reality. Sometimes her own brain stumped her, because while she totally agreed with that, she was very sure she had no idea where that had come from. Whistling a little diddy her friend Gary had annoyingly permanently stuck in her head thru years of working together, she entered one of the art galleries. This one was her favorite. It always showcased artists who were so beyond anything she could have possibly thought up. Today it had paintings that actually changed depending on where the light was focused on it. Spotlights hung over every frame with a flip switch to turn them on and off and watch the waterfall actually flow ever downward, and then...flip...stop in freeze-frame. She wandered the shop flipping and unflipping, going back to pieces she really enjoyed again and again. She spent hours in this shop today; her tummy suddenly began to grumble loudly at the lack of attention it had received.

She loved the open-air eateries on Dearborn Street. She practically bounced down the sidewalk in joy. Which one would be lucky enough to receive her attention today? No...she stopped, actually stopped, in mid-stride. Which one would she be blessed enough to feast at today. Each one was well worth the time and money spent. Each one had a perfect seat for her to watch other people shopping and enjoying themselves and each other. She loved to make up lives for each person. That woman over there, young and attractive, perhaps 22 years old, had just received a promotion with a new office. Impeccably dressed, she wanted nothing more than to purchase that beautiful beach-view painting with the colorful Adirondack chairs and pink and green flip flops in the sand; grey and white sea gulls standing on the arms of the chairs looked out at the vastness of the blue and white ocean. Lois liked that one, too. It had a pristine white frame. It spoke to her. Each day it said something different, depending on her mood, but it spoke to her.

That exasperated woman over there with the two children was talking on the phone with her mom. The baby in the stroller was sucking on a pacifier, wide-eyed and bouncy, he made the stroller leap backwards and forwards in an off-balance way, causing mom to stumble occasionally. The toddler beside her was screaming, tears running down her fat cheeks, alternately pointing at the store they were in front of and her slobbery, drippy mouth. Her little fingers slimed with spittle and snot, she was anywhere but here and wanted desperately to be in there. Mom juggled the cell phone and the stroller, begging Grandma to please meet her at Roasters as quickly as possible, couldn't she hear the kids? Or maybe she was talking to her ex-husband, demanding the child support, because how could she possibly buy little Ella ice cream on the paltry income she made as a receptionist. It was all his fault she had to try to get back into the working world...

Ah, now just to her left was a handsome young soldier boy looking stately in his army fatigues. Tall and proud, he had his arms spread wide as an older woman ran eagerly into his embrace. Obviously, this was Mom celebrating her son's return from active duty. A tear formed in Lois' eye as she watched the young man pick her up and twirl her around with a giant smile on both of their faces. Joyous laughter filled the air and the people in the immediate area grinned from ear to ear. What is it about war that brings out the best in people?

After enjoying the reunion from afar for several minutes, Lois looked to her right. A tall gallant man in his 60's snuck up behind his wife. His hands tucked behind him, obviously hiding something that he was about to surprise her with. Very easy on the eyes with short grey hair and brilliant blue eyes which she could see from here, his mischievous smile drew Lois further into their story. He loved her beyond life itself. He quickly wrapped his arms around the joy of his life, and produced a small brightly wrapped box. Startled, she laughed easily. She looked shyly into his eyes and took the box from his hands. Turning around to face him, her smile radiated like the sun. There were no two people who belonged together more than these two. She unwrapped the box and pulled out....Lois quickly stood up, causing the chair she was sitting in to fly backwards into the planter behind her. The little cafe table rocked as she slapped a ten dollar bill on it and hastily gathered her belongings. clumsily stumbling out onto the sidewalk, she dashed down the street. She ran as fast as she could. Slamming thru the shop door, she glared at the empty spot in the display case.

"NO!" She ran to the case and placed her hands on the glass, her head dipping forward, her eyes landed on that horrible empty spot. Her spot. It was gone. Empty. Missing.

"I'm sorry, Lois. I couldn't hold it indefinitely for you. Looking at it doesn't pay the bills, my friend." Emily came from the back room.

She truly was sorry, Lois could tell by the sound of her voice. She had sold it. Her piece. Her beautiful necklace. Gone. She slid down to a squat, her hands tracing the glass side, her face as close as it could get. The spot was so...empty. Just like her heart. Next time, she would work the overtime and go the extra days without food. She wouldn't let it get away again.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Weaving Dreams

The sunset was gorgeous, even if it was setting over a pile of plastic bags, dirty diapers, broken furniture and other assorted garbage. Joan truly enjoyed coming down here to the dump to watch twilight fall. She could go without the smell, but the sights and sounds just hit her heart like Cupid's little arrow.

The bulldozer sat at the top of the heap, like a monster frozen by night magic. Hundreds of screeching and screaming birds played in the wind, diving and rising, floating on the air current, hardly ever flapping their wings. She loved to watch the birds play. It reminded her of what childhood is supposed to be, filled with laughter and carefree fun. She sat entranced. This was her childhood.

"What in tarnation? Lookey what we got here, boys. Why it just might be one o' them freaks we hear about all the time." A group of boys about aged 13 came around a pile of trash behind her. She turned her head slowly, not letting on that they had scared the crud out of her.

"What are you doin' here, Freak?" The boy had a BB gun in his hand - the rifle type. It rested easily at his hip, pointing down. The other hand held a cigarette, which he flicked almost constantly. Three other boys gathered around behind him. They looked nervous as they held their BB guns with both hands.

"My name is not Freak." She turned her body toward them. "I'm watching the sunset. I suppose you boys are going to try to reduce the rat population tonight." Joan held her head high and looked directly at the one in charge. She wasn't going to be intimidated. She'd learned the hard way how to stand up for herself.

"Yeah. What of it?" He stuck his jaw out at her and tried to look cool as he tugged another hit off his cigarette. The boys behind him lifted their heads a little higher, too.

Joan turned back toward the sunset. It was gone now...behind the pile. Sure, she could try to run up the hill and see the sun set on the natural horizon, but she didn't feel like slipping and sliding on nasty who-knows-what, especially with these boys looking on.

She heard laughter behind her. It drifted away as the boys apparently left. Let them have their rats. The less of them, the better for her. They freaked her out, especially after the sun fully set and it started to get dark. That's when they really came out. It was still light out, though. She supposed she should go home and see how Mom and Dad were getting along tonight. Maybe she'd be able to scrounge together some food for dinner, too. She gave one last longing look at the darkening sky where the sun once sat. One of these days she'd follow that sun with more than just her eyes. Tonight, though, tonight she just had to make it 'til tomorrow.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Alligator Bait

She woke up with the sun shining directly in her eyes, floating in a small aluminum boat with something wedged under her butt. Her hair was wet with that bottom of the boat dirty water that her head lay in. She had not a clue where she was or how she got there. Or why, even. She knew her name was Lexie. That was a start. So we got the "who" down.

Grabbing the sides of the boat, she pulled herself up into a sitting position and tucked her legs in Indian Style, for comfort. Well, the most comfort you could get in a...she peered at the boat she was sitting in...a canoe? She shaded her eyes as she looked around, trying to figure out where she was. Long grass rose up almost all around her. There was no current. Her boat just floated in the reeds. She couldn't see anything else.

It was hot. Sweltering. She pulled her t-shirt over her head and carefully dipped it in the water. Once it was wet, she wrapped it around her head. It didn't appear there were too many people around for her to worry about sitting in a canoe, in what she thought was probably the Everglades somewhere, wearing only blue shorts and a black bra with a white t-shirt wrapped around her head. She sensed no one else around, but that could be deceiving in a place like this. In actuality, any number of people could be scrutinizing her every move from the reeds and high grasses surrounding her. Taking stock of her situation, she found that whoever had left her here also gave her a long wooden pole. It was clamped to the side of the boat, the entire length. She also found a Ziploc bag of sugar cookies, and stowed under her butt was a bag of marshmallows.

She stared at the marshmallows. Publix brand. She knew the cookies were Publix; the best sugar cookies on earth. She'd spot them anywhere. They were best cold, but she would happily eat them any time. She shook her head quickly back and forth, to get her senses back. Here she was, in a canoe, in the middle of the Everglades and she was drooling over the kindness of the dork who put her here giving her Publix sugar cookies. Was she crazy?

Sweat was pouring down her back. The sun was relentless. Her t-shirt was almost dry already. Ugh. She needed to do something about this situation. She could feel the bugs starting to hit her body and knew the mosquitoes would find her very soon. Not good. She put her t-shirt back on. She lifted her head and startled some birds nearby with her cry, "You coulda given me a hat and some bug spray!!"

Lexie unclamped the pole from the boat and carefully put it in the water, testing the depth. She felt something bump the pole in the water and suddenly realized what the marshmallows were for. Putting the pole in the boat, she ripped open the package and grabbed a couple. A black bump appeared in the smooth surface of the water. Gator. She threw one marshmallow as far as she could away from the boat. Putting the other two marshmallows on the seat next to her, she grabbed the pole again and slowly tried the water again. It grab mud about 3/4 of the way in and she pushed, gently moving the boat towards what the hoped was land...away from the marshmallow she threw. She heard the water splash a little and when she looked back, the marshmallow was gone. Reaching down, she grabbed another and threw it as far behind her as she could.

After around thirty minutes of this - push, throw, push, throw - she heard a swamp boat somewhere in front of her. She sat with a thump and pulled her t-shirt off again, tying it to the top of the pole. Raising the pole above her, she waved it back and forth, hoping the swamp boat driver would see it and head her way. She considered yelling, but then realized there is no way they would hear her over the sound of the air fan that propels them. Just think...it's strong enough to move them quickly thru the water. How loud and powerful is that fan?

Waving furiously, she wasn't sure if the boat was moving toward her or away. Tricks of the open swamp. She let the pole slip thru her hands until it hit mud again and pushed her way towards the sound. People must be that way. She hoped she was making the right decision. Dry land could be just about anywhere...even just a few feet on the other side of any of these reed patches. She untied her shirt and put it back on again, noting the bites on her belly.

A massive bump jolted her back to reality. The boat swayed seriously side to side. She struggled for a moment to recover her balance. She looked about in the water and saw a black shadow swimming around. Bump. She reached frantically behind her for the marshmallow bag; her hand fell on cold aluminum. Bump. She turned in fear and scanned the boat. Bump. Where were they? Bump. Each time the boat shook a little more. Bump. Each time her heart beat harder. Bump. Tipping so far that time, a little water seeped in, Lexie screeched. She leaned forward to try to set the boat upright again. Bump. She felt herself flying forward out of control. Her screech turned into a full blooded scream.

The sound she heard wasn't what she expected. She expected splashing and a grunt, but instead heard a loud, unexplainable rumbling. She hit the water...THERE, that was the splash...she went under quickly. She felt something furiously grab the neck of her shirt and pull. She squirmed and pushed away as hard as she could. It held fast and pulled again. She fought the pull, but it was much stronger than she was. She felt a bit like a rag doll, being flopped this way and that. Exhausted, she still struggled and twisted only to find herself lifted out of the water. The only thing she saw was the gaping mouth of an alligator snapping only inches from her face. Hands grabbed at her arms and legs. The one holding her shirt moved to her waistband. She was hauled into the swamp boat along with a gallon of water. Spitting and coughing she collapsed on the floor of the boat.

Lexie opened her eyes. Several people were hovering over her. They were still in the boat, moving fast.

"Geez, Lexie. Are you OK? What happened back there?"

She swiveled her head toward the voice and her eyes focused on her best friend, Emily. She coughed as she tried to speak. "Wha...what?" It all came flooding back to her. Jeremy had picked up Emily and Marco in the swamp boat and took them for a ride, leaving Lexie in the canoe. She had lain down and fallen asleep sunning herself. She'd freaked out and almost got eaten by an alligator because of it.

It happens that fast. Lexie realized that life was precious and she was going to act accordingly from now on.

Friday, July 13, 2012

Antarctica in Indiana

7:50. I just might make it. I'd forgotten to set my alarm last night - not that it would have mattered since they invented the snooze button. Fifteen minutes to get ready for philosophy class was pushing it for me. It was a small class and Professor Deaton always knew who was missing. He marked your grade down for attendance, or lack there of. I quickly flicked the curtain open to check the weather. You never knew in NW Indiana. It could be snowing, raining, windy, sunny and hailing all in the same day.

I had to do a double take. Not a good sign. I could barely see the ground just three stories down. Snow. Great. The clock was ticking as I pulled out my mittens and scarf. I might even go for the hat today. Not very hip, but looks like it might be necessary. I shoved it in my pocket. I glanced over at Joe...well, a lump I figured was Joe. How did he get away without an 8 o'clock as a freshman? I grabbed my backpack and slipped out the door.

Taking the stairs a flight at a time, I tried to brace myself for the blast of wind I was about to step into. There was just simply no way to prepare for the Tundra in November. I stopped in between floors one and two and thought for a moment. Precious time being taken up, but did I really need to attend class today? It was the day before Thanksgiving break, after all. How many other people would be in class on this glorious day? I peered out the window. It gave me a chill just looking at it. I glanced back up the stairwell.

The Tundra. About 45,000 square feet of nothingness. No trees, no bushes, no sidewalk even. Just bare ground, now piling up with snow and a wind that knocked the breath out of you. This was pure torture. I checked my watch. 7:55. I had to get going or I wouldn't make it. Professor Deaton made you sit up front if you were late. No slipping in the back. I jumped the last flight of stairs and pushed out the door before my brain had a chance to stop me again.

It was cold. Bitter cold. The building gave me a wind break at first, but I took a breath and held it as I stepped into the parking lot to head toward the Tundra. The wind hit me like a Mac truck. I sucked in a little more breath, not believing that was possible, and ducked my head. Clumsily I fumbled for my hat. Damn the hair. My ears would fall off if I didn't put it on now.

I ran thru the parking lot toward the snow. This was insane. One lucky thing about the Tundra was the wind blew across it so much, there was rarely snow on it. No trying to tromp thru a foot or more. And when there was snow on it, unless you were the unlucky one to have a frickin' 8 o'clock class, there were foot paths to follow - other hapless students trucking to class across Antarctica. Today the wind was blowing so hard, I don't think any snow actually hit the ground. It was blowing from my right side to my left. Thankfully class was just a bit to the left, so I wasn't heading into the wind. My head was ducked as low as I could without walking blind. Ha. Walking blind. The snow was helping with that. I'm surprised there weren't more student on student collisions. Oh, that would be terrible. Crash into someone else and knock each other out, laying there in the bitter cold and snow. Certainly we'd die. It was a Lutheran school, so maybe there was something to this God thing. It was uncool and very freshman-like to run across the Tundra, but that building was so close and I was so cold, I didn't care.

I slipped into a seat in the back of the room. "Ah, Mr Peresta, right on time today, I see." Well, at least my ears hadn't fallen off.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

End of Shift

Fifteen minutes until my shift was over. I was just buying time and praying no one else would come in and order something. It was that odd hour of the day where we were either really busy or super slow. You never knew what you got until you bit into it...HA! My take of Forest Gump.

I was cleaning the shake machine when I heard the door beep. Someone just came in. Quickly finishing wiping down the agitator, I wiped my hands as I walked up to the register. There were three customers in line! I hate when a bunch come in at once and you don't realize you've got a line until it's way too late.

The first guy in line was freaky looking; pale as a ghost with a black hoodie on. His eyes were rimmed in red as if he were high as a kite. Probably was. That certainly wasn't anything new at this hour in this neighborhood. His left hand tapped nervously on the counter...an obvious rhythm that stuck in your head like that song you absolutely hate.

"Yeah, um, I want a cheeseburger with everything, a chicken sandwich, 3 large fries and a giant Coke."

Wow...this guy was uber bones and skin. He certainly wasn't planning on eating this here by himself. Surely it was to go. I finished ringing up the food and was about to ask if there was anything else.

"I already paid you for that."

I looked at the cash register, then up into his eyes. "No, you didn't. I didn't even tell you how much it was."

"I paid you for that, now give me my change."

My heart flew up into my throat and I felt the sweat starting to form at my hair line. "Mister, you didn't pay for this. You JUST gave me your order. I haven't even hit the total button." I glanced quickly toward the phone that hung on the wall, a mere five feet away. Doubt I could reach it before he freaked out and pulled something stupid. Plus, I didn't get paid enough for this kind of crap. He was scrawny, but if he was hyped up on anything, he'd be strong and not worried about getting hurt. I started to call for the manager.

"Listen, Crater Face." His tapping got more frantic, but it still had that certain beat to it. It was starting to give me a headache. "I already paid for that food. You put the money in the til." His boney hand slammed down on the counter, all in perfect harmony with his drum solo. He swiveled his upper body sideways and his other hand immediately took up the tap tap tapping, without missing a beat. "Shut up and give me my food."

I was terribly happy he wasn't looking in my direction any more. I reached for the phone to call 911. My fingers touched the receiver slightly, before they were clenched in Freaky Bones hand and pulled angrily toward his face. He'd jumped the counter as if it weren't there.

"Don't touch." He looked straight into my eyes and I felt myself falling inward. Those eyes, rimmed in red, were all black. No iris. So small there were no whites. I tried to pull back, but he locked on tight and I suddenly felt like puking everything inside me. There was nothing else, just me and those eyes. His grip tightened and he pushed me to the floor, not letting go, not losing any contact. I yipped like a little flippin' chihuahua and tried to look down, but I was frozen...frozen in time. What was this guy's deal? Why didn't someone save me?

"You're a puny, pathetic piece of crap,you know that?" His voice boomed in my ears as I shrunk as far as I could from his craziness. "I paid for that food and you're trying to rip me off. I'm hungry and I want to eat."

I felt myself shaking uncontrollably, "Ok. Sure. You paid."

He stared at me a couple seconds longer, then he looked around. "Forget it you shit. Not a word." His voice was gravely. He threw my hand backward, which sent me sprawling across the floor. I quickly pulled myself together and looked up. He was crouching on the counter, glaring at me. "Punk." He jumped down and the door beeped again.

I quaked as I stood, wiping off my pants - to dust them off and to check for wetness. I looked disbelievingly at the next customer in line. She stood there looking at the menu. The guy behind her was talking on his cell phone. I'm guessing it was with his girlfriend, because he was cooing. Maybe it was his kid. Either way, it appeared that neither of them had paid any attention to what had just happened. Could this world really have come to this? Physically attacked in front of two other people...at work, with one co-worker at the drive thru, one in back washing dishes and the manager in the office counting one of the tils.

"Did you just see that??" I pointed to the door where the boney guy had just left. I felt violated.

"Oh, I didn't see you come up from the back. I think I'll have a side salad and a baked potato. Oh! And a glass of water."

"Seriously? You didn't just see what that guy did to me?"

"What guy? I've been standing here for a few minutes waiting for you to come up from the back." She turned to the guy behind her who had by now hung up on whatever being he was cooing to. "Did you see some other guy?"

"Nope. Just you. He came up from the back a second ago."

No way. What just happened here?

I stepped toward the register, unsure what I was going to do next.

"A side salad, baked potato and water, please."

My hands on either side of the register, I glanced down and the keys and then back up at her. What??

She stood there staring at me. Waiting for me to ring her up. My hand moved shakily toward the salad button when I noticed the order waiting to be totaled out. A cheeseburger with everything, a chicken sandwich, 3 large fries and a large Coke. The customer in line started tapping the counter in that off beat way that didn't make any sense.