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The Day After

14 Years Ago


The day after he said he'd be there, and wasn't, I made a big deal out of the little things, trying to do that self-help thing when you practice Self Care, whatever that is. Frankly, I thought I'd be taking better care of my Self if he had met me at the train like he said he would, before he had to leave The Next Day, which was now. But Self, I said to myself, you don't always get to pick your outcome.

They say if you get in a traffic jam it means God is keeping you from having an accident somewhere else, but that doesn't explain the people who actually do have accidents. What were they being kept from? Actually getting wherever they were going?

And as I dipped the teabag in the mug repeatedly, trying to get the water to stop looking like something that came out of the washer hose, I thought these kinds of thoughts that would get me nowhere.

I'm obsessive. That's why I knew I'd be thinking about this random guy when I was, like, eighty. I knew today, the day after we were supposed to meet at the train and he didn't show, would probably be the worst day out of all the times I remembered it, but I knew remembering it wasn't something I'd forget.

Who is He, you're wondering? God, the story is as old as Methuselah: We met in a club, he used Line #426 which is “If I were the marrying kind, I'd be inclined to marry you,” which I've heard before and, according to the translation from my latest self-help book:

Don't Let Him Do You ... Wrong! By Mackenzie McAllister, Ph.D
[is that a real name, or did she make it up just for the book cover?]

...could be translated as “Would you like to see my etchings?” (circa 1925)
which could be translated as “I want to go to bed with you” (circa the removal of Adam's rib)

Men with the bed thing. It was so tiresome sometimes. I mean, if combined with the train trip, given a nice shoulder to rest my weary damsel's head upon while we watched the world click by at varying shutterspeeds, it might even be construed as Romantic, or perhaps even better, Exotic, but at this moment in time I had a cup of dun-colored tea and a headache and bunny slippers.

The phone rang.

In a perfect story, it would be Him on the phone, but it wasn't. It was my dentist's receptionist and she reminded me that I had a cleaning, and told me it would be fifty bucks if I didn't show. I assured her I would be there. Where else did I have to go?

I spent the rest of the morning doing aerobics in front of the TV with the accompanying dulcet tones of a trainer with a fake tan, and thinking of second, third, fourth, and four-hundred-and-twenty-sixth chances.

Re: The Day After

14 Years Ago


This was like reading from someone's journey or diary, a very interesting view into someone else's life. Very interesting.

Re: The Day After

14 Years Ago


A little Bridget Jones, a lot real. I enjoyed this glimpse into a "normal life", because your voice is captivating and your style is original. Great job.