Sunday, February 22, 2015

Am I invisible today?

No, that's ridiculous. Let's review: my husband sort of grunted when I passed him the milk at the breakfast table, so at least that's something. Also, Hank hugged me before he left for school. I guess that means I'm not technically transparent.

But then how can I explain any of the rest of my day?

Not that I ever expect any significant interaction with the tenants, but they all seemed not to even notice my presence in the morning during my rounds. I took a little longer than usual vacuuming up some feathers outside of Senka's door, but she didn't come outside. The lack of human contact meant I finished up a little after four, so I headed out early.

On my way to the bar, a car started right as I walked past it. It scared the bejeezus out of me. When I rapped on the dark-tinted window to express my displeasure, it just peeled off, rounded the corner, and sped off down Main. Chasing after it, I noticed a woman staring into the fountain, directly in the path of the out-of-control vehicle. Screaming at her to move did no good, and I'm not built to outrun a car, even a Subaru, at top speed. Luckily, a young man tackled her out of the way.

Look, I'm not proud of this, but I turned around and left. Nobody needs a real police investigation around here, and I certainly wasn't going to raise a fuss. Besides, the two kids were fine (I couldn't see them behind the car wreck, but I could tell they weren't hit), and it's my opinion that whoever was in that car deserves whatever injuries they might have received. You don't just run people down in the street. It isn't done.

The bar looked normal from the outside, but on the inside, it was as crowded as I've ever seen it. I was jostled this way and that from the moment I walked in right up until I was crushed against the bar next to an old man being cursed out by someone I assume was his grandson. I tried to get the bartender's attention, even grabbing his arm as he walked by, but to no avail. The strangest part was when I knocked over the old man's drink. He wasn't angry, not even mildly upset; he didn't seem to notice at all. When I touched his arm where the drink had sloshed onto his sleeve, it felt completely dry. You can be sure I left after that.

I don't know whether I'm invisible today, but something's off. That girl who almost got crushed? She was fifty feet away from me at most. I was yelling at the top of my voice! She should have heard me. And the thing with the old man's drink is almost too weird to think about. I realize now that I had no real effect on my surroundings after I left the building. It's almost like... I wasn't actually where I thought I was all day.

Hank wanted tortellini, and I was loath to disappoint him after such an off-putting day, so I headed out to the grocery store. It was the strangest thing, though: my little Subaru was cool, as if the air-conditioner had been on all day, when I know for a fact that David's key is in the sewer drain down the street.

The worst part, though, was the deep dent in my front bumper. I have no idea how it got there, but it's bad. The light blue paint I love so much is almost entirely scraped away.

Monday, February 2, 2015

I guess I have a partner in crime now?

That's if you really count this as a crime, which I think is questionable. That Russian girl was rude to me in the lobby this morning (though she may have just been hungover boys that I think about it), so I decided that she would be my newest Candid Camera contestant.

The second I got inside her apartment, armed with three new cameras plus the old one I fixed up, I noticed the multiple fire hazards littering the floor. Somewhere in another room, there was a soft crooning, almost like a dove. Also a violation of tenant policy, because birds will shit wherever it's the least possible to clean.

She clearly needed some supervision.

Unfortunately, she walked in while I was putting the cameras up in her living room. I didn't even have time to hide my drill. In one second, one miserable mistake that undid all of the work I've done for years, I was caught and I was ruined. The paint bucket spontaneously combusting  was just the rotten cherry on the fucked up sundae.

In the orange light, her eyes were inhuman. I knew, vaguely, that she was jabbering at me in Russian, but all I could focus on was the jail bars I could see encircling my future.

She asked me if I was spying on her  and the only thing I could think to say was something condescending about her paint rags. I guess I seemed to have bravado, because she stopped yelling and considered me for a second. I think, maybe, we understand each other.

When I got home,  I went to bed. My husband was asleep, so he didn't notice the flowers I arranged in the vase on our dresser.

Senka. I never knew her name before today. Senka.

It's beautiful.