The men that came to the rescue today. Finally, after a hundred thousand attempts to figure it out ourselves and to ask others for help, a nice smelling chap came from the IT firm to fix our machines up. I didn’t make eyes. I was cheerful and professional, but I did think, rather than allow the usual flow of quashing thoughts that surge to swallow these sort of impulses that I liked him. I did not think “I feel nothing, I feel nothing, I feel nothing.” I thought, even if it was worthless, nebulous and of no long duration, that I did feel something. The sort of aimless thrill that people feel when making new acquaintance. I’m hoping to give up the security blanket of that phrase, to give up the immediate neutering of potent situations. I do feel, friends, this heart still beats beneath these steel sheets. Later, there was the usual office comments on this nice, nerdy, hero and if, with amusement, one of us were going to do something about it. I’m not, of course, but I would like to. I can’t, but I would like to, and that, I have to think, is some sort of step.
The second man did not have any allure of a sexual nature, latent or dormant or half-felt on my part. He was a hunk of something politically incorrect, with some sort of strain of a Highwayman, of gentleman, marbleized through the soul that perched right front and center and peered out through his leathery hermitage. For some reason, some untold reason, that perhaps only had to do with the impossibly unfair irony that we tried to get the car serviced only moments before, but the car decided to stop working in the middle of the road. It sputtered and seemed to have no power, no speedometer, just another soul exhausted by having to ferry us about even more more inch less one more mile. So we, or I should specify, my sister, called the insurance and got the complimentary tow that isn’t so complimentary given that we pay for it year after year and never until now have had to use it. I am grateful, however, that we did because the weather has been so miserable. So we waited for the driver to arrive and he was hardly even comprehensible when he turned up, nearly forty-five minutes early, in the grocery store parking lot where we’d decided to pull off in case there was something happening that continued driving would exacerbate. He just set to getting the car on the truck, talking about the cops he distrusted, pulling my sister into an odd and entirely unexpected promenade around to the car, which had a Mountain Dew can half falling out of it and eventually taking us the mile to our house.
Certainly not worth it, but a silver lining when you spend all day with particular people and particular worries, a few guest stars and plot twists don’t go amiss.
Time to soak a girl’s feet.