what does this mechanism do?
"on feeling deserving of love"
two unremarkable women come into my restaurant and sit
unremarkably at a table for two. they are both wearing beige. one has her hair pulled back in a tight, unremarkable bun, and the
other’s hair is so unremarkable that i don’t remember it well enough to
describe. they catch my eye
because they are sitting down to eat at eleven thirty when everyone else comes
in around twelve fifteen. but if
the most remarkable thing about you is that you eat lunch forty-five minutes
earlier than everyone else, you can’t be too remarkable.
i unremarkably walk over to them, unremarkably take their
order, and, after an unremarkable amount of time passes, bring them their
entrees without remark. i can’t hear what they are talking about, but i’m sure
it’s not anything too remarkable. they can’t tell what i’m thinking about, but i’m sure they’re sure that,
whatever it is, it is not very remarkable either.
because the two unremarkable women come in to eat forty-five
minutes before everyone else, by the time their plates are clean in front of
them the rest of the restaurant is packed. i don’t have a moment to notice when they are done, so a
busser clears their table. all is
this is very unremarkable. as i am
unremarkably taking orders from my other unremarkable tables, i walk by the two
women. they are sitting across
from each other with what is now an empty table between them. i notice that, with the newfound
freedom that a clear table allows, the two women have reached their hands
across to meet in the center. the
woman with the tight bun is holding the hands of the other woman in her own,
and is stroking the backs of them gently with her thumbs. they are both staring into each other’s
eyes. they are laughing in that stifled way that people laugh when they want whatever
is funny to remain between them—as if other people knowing would rob the
occurrence of its value.
although a scene of two people who seem to be in love
quietly sharing an early lunch together is very unremarkable, it stirs me to
remark. that morning, i awoke to
an empty inbox, expecting to have received a response to a message i had
written to an ex-partner the night before. the message i had written to an ex-partner the night before
was in response to a message he had written to me a week earlier, asking me if i would like to get together for a meal. receiving that message a week earlier was very remarkable. previous to that message, we had
not corresponded for what felt like years but was probably more like nine
months. so after remarkably being
invited to a meal by an ex-partner, remarkably deliberating for a week whether
or not to respond, remarkably deciding to respond, and then remarkably not
receiving any response to my response, a scene of two people who seem to be in
love quietly sharing an early lunch together struck me as something very
remarkable, indeed.
later, the two lovers would leave the restaurant without my
noticing. they would forget to take
their credit card out of the generic black checkbook i had left for them on
their table. i would notice this
and run out of the restaurant to find them. i would run to the corner of hudson and charlton. across hudson street, i would see them
walking hand-in-hand toward sixth avenue—already almost two blocks away. i would stand frozen on the corner of hudson and charlton, deliberating whether or not to move. i would decide to move. i would run across three lanes of
traffic on hudson street to reach them before they walked out of sight. i would be honked at by two taxis and
an access-a-ride van. i would run
the almost two blocks they had walked to catch up to them. i would shout to them as i approached, and they would turn
around in confusion. i would tell
them that they forgot their credit card. they would laugh embarrassedly and with astonishment upon receiving what
they didn’t know they lost. i would smile. i would say it was no
problem.
thoughts about the remarkability of two lovers quietly
sharing an early lunch together swim in my head as i float around the
restaurant checking on the rest of my tables.
--
i sweat so much today! how come some days you sweat more than other days?
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