Arizona Death Tripping
My daughter is asleep. She's got her doll. A documentary on the "real wolfman" plays on the television. I could use a Coke.
Was at the drug store tonight looking at air mattresses. Good to have one on hand for whatever. Thinking about my manuscript, an e-mail I've tried to write like eight times, and wondering if I should get Chapstick. I've had problems with that stuff in the past, but I keep licking my lips like a drunk, and they are getting cracked. So all this stuff is running through my head when I saw them.
They are in line ahead of us. Two women. Late twenties. Their only purchase? A half gallon of Caramel Delight ice cream. They are very excited about this ice cream, and very happy with the price. The clerk, a guy a few years younger then them, greets them like he thinks he has a chance.
It's fun watching these dances. Makes me feel good in my alienation from their world.
Dealt with a near migraine today. I felt it coming. Quickly took medicine. Avoided disaster. Watching these two women makes me wish I had that migraine. They are way too happy to have this ice cream. If it were a deer, they would have it mounted above the computer desk, a permanent reminder of the deal they got.
What kind of life is that? What is your life like when you get positively animated over the price of a half gallon of ice cream? Does cancer exist? STDs? Serial rapists? Was this the best thing that happened all day? What kind of jobs must they have where ice cream from the drug elicits this much joy? Perhaps they are in charge of watching paint dry.
I know it's the small things that make life tolerable. I get that. I understand that good ice cream can be expensive. Been there. I don't get, however, how it becomes a symbol of all that is pure and holy in the world. Two minutes spent praising its price is one hundred and ten seconds too long.
I also know I'll never get it. I don't live in that world. No complaints there, though. I would never get used to the territory, and I believe the people are a little too psychopathic for my tastes. More power to those of you who stay there, though. It can't be all bad. At least you get cheap ice cream.