Saturday, July 23, 2005

Bumblebees Have Tails?

Once upon a time, I met a man at the gas station who cried and stole my wallet. It was a turning point in my career. Does that make sense? Let me explain.

He was a farmer from midwestern Aroostook County, which means that he farmed potatoes. Now, those potato farmers up in the county are a sketchy lot, and I try to avoid them all together, but how was I supposed to know that when I was seven years old?

Yes, I was seven years old when this County bred potato farmer cried on my shoulder and stole my wallet. Yes, I had a career at that point, although let me tell you, things just weren’t the same after that. And yes, I had a wallet for him to steal.

It was a little pink plastic one with daisies and bumblebees. And the bumblebees (because to just call them bees doesn’t do the wallet justice) all had those series of dots behind them that tells you that the picture is in motion. Only I didn’t know what they were for when I was seven. I just assumed that bumblebees had tails that were cut off in the middle.

Remember, it becomes very difficult to argue with childean logic. So we’ll just skip that part.

The wallet was almost empty. I think there was half of a valentine left over from the school party a couple weeks before. Of course there is a reason that I was keeping half a valentine in my wallet, I just don’t happen to remember what that reason would be. But I know it was there when I went to the gas station that day.

He must have seen me coming. I mean think about my outfit. I wore a pink sweater set (my mother had a fetish for sweater sets) and starchy denim skirt with shiny back mary janes and those little whist socks with the lace frill. And I was carrying a pink plastic wallet with daisies and bumblebees on it. I was asking for a grungy old farmer to pull one over on me.

And then he did. And I haven’t been the same since. But I’ll get to that later.

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