October 31, 2009
Moments of doubt
Originally published August 20, 2004
I saw something on my living room floor this morning and I wasn't certain what it was. Do YOU ever do that? See something strange on the floor and wonder how it got there?
This resembled a dessicated french fry, but I knew that I didn't spill any that I bought at the Krystal yesterday, so THAT couldn't explain it. It couldn't be an old dog turd from Oddball, because I would have found one out in the open like that a long time ago. I put on my reading glasses and I STILL couldn't identify what that thing was.
I got a Bic pen and probed that fucker. It didn't move, wiggle or bite, but I still wasn't going to touch it. Ain't no telling WHAT could be on MY floor. I went to the kitchen and fetched a set of BBQ tongs. I picked up the strange object and held it under the light in the kitchen. After careful inspection, I realized what it was.
It was a piece of my Jethro Belt that I made from string when I was riding cross-country with Recondo. I forgot to bring a real belt, so when my jeans started sagging badly around my withered shanks and skinny waist, I cut some twine from a souvenir bag and tied my pants tight through a couple of front belt-loops. I called that a Jethro Belt, because I looked like I came from the Beverly Hillbillies wearing that thing. But it worked.
When I got home, I had to go to the bathroom. Some of that diner food I ate on the road needed to make a hasty exit. I fumbled with the knot in that string for a minute, realized that I had urgent matters to attend to and didn't have TIME to fuck with that Gordian knot. I grabbed a pair of sissors and just cut it, kinda like Alexander did.
That piece must have fallen on the floor as I rushed to the bathroom. How did I miss seeing it for a week? Of course, I also noticed a lot of mud under my fingernails and wondered where THAT came from until I remembered swimming through a mudhole yesterday afternoon.
My brain has a terminal case of rot.
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