phone greetings

The air is incredibly humid. Going for a walk is like taking a long swim. “Is that a gas station?” I ask myself. I walk over the long field. The remnants of an old road are buried under the long grass. The debris of broken glass, discarded bottles and shreds of paper remain. “I wonder if they sell beer.”

My name is winsome. “I simply love your dimples.”
“Thank you” I say.
“Do all your children have them?”
(Internal sigh) “Yes” I say pleasantly.

The secret jambalaya? Use the grill. Grill sausage, chicken, bell peppers and onions slowly over an open grill. Only later do you throw them in a pot with a bunch of celery and tomato. Add Stock, bring to boil, add rice and slow cook to perfection.

I know I have talked about this before. I don’t eat meat. Well I do eat seafood. But really, how important is it? Some say “you haven’t eaten meat in TWENTY years?” It’s as if they were saying “You haven’t taken a breath in Twenty years?” For some people raw hamburger is the equivalent of a good deep breath of air or a drink of clear water. Forget trying to figure out why I am a vegetarian-ish person, and try to figure this out.

What you put in your mouth will not defile you, rather it is what comes out of your mouth that will defile you.

My name is corn silk. “When are you going back to South Dakota?”
“Never.” I say this matter-of-factly for greater emphasis.
“Why not?”
“There is nothing there for me.”

I used to know exactly how much money I had. I would keep a running total in my mind. Checking account minus this month’s charges on the credit card plus tips equals how much we have to go till rent. Not to lay blame, seriously, no blame, but this equation stopped to matter after I got into my relationship with J. Tension in our relationship has often been about money. Typical, I think. Not to be too much of a stereotype, but men fight about sex, and women fight about money. Men fight about something else, and women fight about chores… (I would keep this going but I am still thinking about sex)

Ninth grade. English class. Mr. Harnes. “A survey was taken of a college sociology class. The students were asked to write down what they were thinking about when they walked into the class room. 72% of the men said sex. 84% of the women said sex.” Mr. Harnes leered at the women in the class knowingly. I looked at him and thought, “but how many enjoyed it?”

“You changed your haircut.”
“I am surprised you said anything at all” chimed in another student.
“Why?” I said
“Comments about personal appearance can be misconstrued as sexual harassment.”
I felt the air in the room thin. “Really?” I said. “It’s come to that?”
“Apparently.”

My name is hot iron. “I never give it a moments thought.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, I guess I am just impulsive.”

The phone rings, "a hoy hoy?" I say. What does one say when answering the phone? "Who the hell is this?" or "What do you want?" Kleburg county Texas became the first county in America to mandate that civil workers answer the phone "heaven-o."
I wonder, can they put a question mark on the end? "Heaven-o?" as if to say, "Who is this?" or will it be misconstrued as an article of faith, in which case answering the phone becomes "where are we going with this?"