Walking back in to do dishes
(I think I’ve washed about 50,000 dishes this year)
I encounter a guy who looks a little like a Mexican Bukowski
(I’ve been getting a lot of these lately… one was riding a bike with one hand with a 44 oz. soda and unbuttoned short sleeve flannel)
On the sidewalk
Ready to face the rest of his afternoon as he bids goodbye to some client-type person.
.
He engages in conversation with me and I’d been having
More or less a sort of nervous breakdown type thing all afternoon
In my air conditioned cave between jobs
So I stop and chat even though it’s going to make me late…
I need a way out of what I’m doing…
I say I’m from South Bend so I’m not used to this heat…
He says he was just up in South Bend…
And here it comes…
The Studebaker museum
(What kind of pompous egomaniacs would make a whole museum about those piece of sh** cars)
And Tippecanoe Place, this non-profitable restaurant with a kitchen located in the stuffy, windowless basement…
He is doing these things and discussing “South Bend” as if it’s something constructed
When all the while I grew up there and I know that its movement is lateral —
The vast majority of commerce takes place in the adjacent suburban town of Mishawaka
And even life itself,
As it passes upon any day,
Moves laterally —
With people stopping stone still and watching you like a hawk
People needing to be able to make fun of you,
People craving superiority over like a needle in the vein.
.
This “South Bend” that this guy discusses is a myth and
I placed in the upper echelon on the SAT’s and the
80th percentile on the English GRE’s but
I think I’ll go back into doing dishes because
That’s real, if only to say that in my time in this life,
Even though it was crappy, I at least did something real
And didn’t have to tell lies.
.
About three and a half hours into my shift I’m drinking some water
And this little black kid (I call him a kid but he’s actually like 22… he’s just really short and skinny like a lot of black line cooks are in Terre Haute)
Strikes up a conversation with me
And I happen to be really hungover, hot and tired so
My conversation is complete garbage
But I persist anyway,
Oh,
I work tomorrow,
Oh,
I so didn’t wanna come in today,
Oh,
My last day off was Saturday and I didn’t do anything,
Oh,
My last day off was 10 days ago and I didn’t do anything,
And deep within this thing it hits me:
It’s real.
This impossible situation we face every day
Is life,
Is what’s real,
Is what is so undeniable,
The ability to clean out your mind seamlessly to a person around you
And fully grasp the condition for what it is
Will always be a floating form.