the two-hundred faces of despair

no idea where I'm going with that...

I'll let her percolate.

-----

What I can scribble on about is a bit of drama dreamed up in a loverly long shower this morning wherein awful things were done for prolonged periods of time.

You see,

...I'm quite certain that, if ever fate were to throw us together, David Sedaris would instantly, and most desperately, fall foot over bonnet in man-love with me. He would be drawn to me much as a sweet summer moth is to an angry young torch. And while true, David's delectable sense of the ironic would hold a certain infatuation to me - for the most part, and let's be honest here, it would be a one-sided love affair. Such are the cruelties of passion.

" O, where is my damn jacket?" His voice would carene down the woodened halls of his apartment, searching for me, homing like the missile as I lay draped across the almost-sofa. His words would wrestle and echo down the hall - the sound of young pups tussling and snaggling for the top position. I lean back and creak the armwrest in a long arc of mechanical fatigue.

"Hall closet, shockingly enough."

The hall closet door closes and a rustle of a rather untidy sarong announce the entrance of David. His eyes are a bit sunken from trying to compete with me in cactus shooters last night, but still hold a word or two of "don't be a wise-ass." Overall, he looks good - fit but not faking, grounded but not dragging. He looks across the room at me and gathers speed in an approach, gliding down as a lark to it's favorite branch. His face, hovering above mine...so close the scent of that damn hippie toothpaste overwhelms me and I secretely hurl.

"O, it's 3 in the afternoon...on a Sunday...God's day."

A blink, a pause of contemplation, and then I throw my arms around him and agree. "I'm your god now, Sedaris. Lead me to the prayer room."

Jacket forgotten, we make a jumble and bumble of rising from the couch and retrace the trail of those loud and tangled puppies.