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Thursday, June 07, 2007


Originally uploaded by kristalynn.
"welcome to the airport express," announced the bus driver. "now sit back and enjoy 80's television."

it was the first time i had television on a bus. 80s indeed: back-to-back "knight rider" episodes. i hadn't remembered that they were so packed full of adventure. sadly, however, the only thing i could think of as i watched michael’s girlfriends get shot and roll down hills was the video david hasselhoff's daughter shot of him to try to get him to stop drinking.

years ago, the man i was dating returned home late and pulled the chicken i had cooked for dinner out of the fridge.

i sat at the table to keep him a bit of company while he ate. the boyfriend was drunk, which was nothing out of the ordinary. as i watched him, part of me left myself. in a quasi out-of-body experience, i watched him eat with his fingers, getting chicken fat all over his face and fingers. i focused on his greasy face as he spoke words to me, i looked back to the decimated chicken. he moved in slow motion; the colors were vivid, the grease in high contrast. i wasn't hearing a word he said. i watched myself and this man with fascination.

this chicken eating, i'm sure, must sound completely unappealing to the average sensible human being. but i was not sane at this point in time. being in my early 20s and stupidly in love, i had allowed myself to be grabbed by my shirt and thrown against a wall, i made up lies about black eyes and sprained wrists, and i waited up until 6am for him to come home, only to have to leave for work at 7.

but it was the chicken that made my love stop.

a few weeks later when he placed the keys on the counter and left for good, a scene would normally evoke much drama and pain, i clutched them so hard that it hurt. i knew he didn't have the wherewithal to have made copies.

i suppressed a smile and waited until his mom's car turned the corner. i called my best friend.

"emancipation... he's gone!" i really felt emancipated. i was screaming into the phone.

"really? we need to celebrate. come by for a drink."

i woke up the next morning with the same tattoo as sporty spice. it was temporary. came with a pack of bubble gum.



At June 11, 2007, Blogger Kell said...

I woke up with a fake tattoo this AM! I'd forgotten I'd allowed the nice people from Cricket Brewery to put one on my arm at the Festival yesterday... It came off with nail polish remover.... But I'd almost worn it to work.


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