Friday, January 20, 2006

INCARNATIONS: SCENARIO A

i see a vaguely familiar flash of gray coat and tuft of hair disappearing behind a linoleum pillar and my cohort says "you know who that was, don't you?" naturally her comment confirms my suspicion and i screech his name and take off running down the platform. when i catch up to him leaning against the wall i say "didn't you hear me call you?" and he looks at me blankly and then takes off his earphones and i repeat my question, which, by this point, is answered, and my cohorts have caught up to us by then. it is a good twenty minutes of awkward enchantment--a mood almost exclusively associated with me. we are all on the train to lord knows where and i'm standing there, one third in the conversation, one third nervously snapping the rubber bands around my wrist, and one third throwing helpless smiles in every direction. we are somehow talking about the distinction between houses and apartments (as urbanites such as ourselves are wont to do) and he says his brother does this thing, which he things is cute. even though he lives in an apartment in the city, he sometimes leaves his front door cracked--you know, ajar--because it makes him feel more connected, like he's in a house. so he tells us that his brother has this illogically charming habit and repeats "i just think that's cute," and i want to stand up and march over to right in front of him and say "yeah? well i think you're cute."

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