Status: I knew of her
Out there Where the Ocean is Blue
Second Rain
I still remember the first time I burned myself. I was six and I was trying to help my mom cook or something along those lines and at one point I was holding this huge bowl full of boiling hot water. My mom kept telling me to be careful and to walk slowly and I was – I swear I was – but I was small and the bowl was half my weight so I stumbled – just a little bit – and it just spilled all over me. I remember my whole body tingling and burning and I started to cry and my mother yelled loudly while she rushed over to me telling me “that it wouldn't have happened if I had just walked slowly.” Like walking any more slowly would've kept me from tripping but that has nothing to do with why I was remembering my first burn.
I was in the mist of burning myself for the zillionth or so time while I was grabbing my hot, hot, hot coffee – thanks I got it the first time coffee stand guy – which said coffee stand guy refused to have any plastic caps left to put on top of my hot, hot, hot coffee when I saw fifty dollar bill, crazy candy lady again.
And I didn't know I was waiting to see her again until I was grabbing my coffee and I saw a shock of blue hair that could only belong to her and I was spilling something boiling hot all over my body again because I was paying attention to something else.
I didn't know why I wanted to see her again or why I didn't get mad when coffee stand guy started to laugh at me but as I was watching her walk away from me – to a possible job that let you act like fifty dollars could be used as lose change – I wanted to call out to her. Maybe I was hung up on the money thing or maybe I still felt like I needed to say I was sorry or maybe I just felt like she would be a great person to talk to but when she crossed the street and weaved in-between people getting lost in the busy downtown crowd, I couldn't help the feeling of disappointment that washed over me.
“Dude, you want another?” The coffee stand guy said through his laughs and I felt anger well in my chest because it wasn't that funny. “You’ll just make me pay again for this “another”, right?” I say offhandedly my mind still on blue and my wanting to punch his laughing face in. “You spilled it, right?” He says gesturing to my coffee soaked shirt. I look down too, staring at the large stain on one of my favorite t-shirts and can’t find a hole in his logic because I did spill it and I guess “you break it, you buy it” replies here too.
Grumbling to myself about wasted money I pull out another two-eighty from my wallet and hand my hard earned money over to the guy who finally found it in himself to stop laughing. And even though I handed him the exact amount I found myself saying: “Keep the change.” And walking away with a new hot, hot, hot cup of coffee because if only this once, I wanted to try saying it too.
I was in the mist of burning myself for the zillionth or so time while I was grabbing my hot, hot, hot coffee – thanks I got it the first time coffee stand guy – which said coffee stand guy refused to have any plastic caps left to put on top of my hot, hot, hot coffee when I saw fifty dollar bill, crazy candy lady again.
And I didn't know I was waiting to see her again until I was grabbing my coffee and I saw a shock of blue hair that could only belong to her and I was spilling something boiling hot all over my body again because I was paying attention to something else.
I didn't know why I wanted to see her again or why I didn't get mad when coffee stand guy started to laugh at me but as I was watching her walk away from me – to a possible job that let you act like fifty dollars could be used as lose change – I wanted to call out to her. Maybe I was hung up on the money thing or maybe I still felt like I needed to say I was sorry or maybe I just felt like she would be a great person to talk to but when she crossed the street and weaved in-between people getting lost in the busy downtown crowd, I couldn't help the feeling of disappointment that washed over me.
“Dude, you want another?” The coffee stand guy said through his laughs and I felt anger well in my chest because it wasn't that funny. “You’ll just make me pay again for this “another”, right?” I say offhandedly my mind still on blue and my wanting to punch his laughing face in. “You spilled it, right?” He says gesturing to my coffee soaked shirt. I look down too, staring at the large stain on one of my favorite t-shirts and can’t find a hole in his logic because I did spill it and I guess “you break it, you buy it” replies here too.
Grumbling to myself about wasted money I pull out another two-eighty from my wallet and hand my hard earned money over to the guy who finally found it in himself to stop laughing. And even though I handed him the exact amount I found myself saying: “Keep the change.” And walking away with a new hot, hot, hot cup of coffee because if only this once, I wanted to try saying it too.