Wednesday, June 15, 2005

At the car repair shop (today)

How can it be so hot in the waiting room?
The AC is running
Ahmed, the owner, stored my bag
in his office so I could walk
across the street, smile
at the beautiful Indian cashier
and buy a soda.
Then I go to Bajangles for a couple of biscuits.
I retrieve my bag from his office, Christ
it's 65 degrees in there. It's 80 in the waiting room.
That son of a bitch.
I thought we were pals.
I lay back in the baking sofa and read.

I don't want to know how bad I smell.
I've started and stopped sweating
at least four times.
When did I get so fat?
I take self portraits with my digital camera.
Hmm, I look better from behind.

I read some more, then nap.
Two country women enter
with a baby each.
For the next two hours the younguns
do laps, get a mouthful of breast.
I finish my book, now I am truly hosed.
Before I was overly warm and reading
now just hot.
Digital camera is back out,
I take pictures of traffic,
closeups of greasy tools
cement floor
the key rack
the cement walls
of Ahmed bouncing from one
hot tired customer to the next.

He tells me my car won't be done today.
Now I ride the bus home.
No book, no headphones.
Just a fat man loudly discussing
his unfaithful wife in front of four children.
"She's a gamer! All women are gamers!"

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