Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Woody Loses It Over A Towel

(Cough) Excuse me, I hope I’m not interrupting anything… but is that my beach towel? I got up only a second ago to get some cotton candy, and now I find you, a relic from the Paleolithic Era sitting on my towel. No, don’t get up – I have a few things I would like to say. I’ll begin by telling you a few things about my first wife. We actually met on the beach. Oh, how I loved her. I was so nervous around her. I really was. When I proposed, I had to have my father ask her for me. His only regret, he told me, was that he couldn’t talk any sense into her. I’ve always resented him for that.When she left me, I was very depressed. I was going to kill myself. I locked myself in a bathroom and swallowed a bottle of Aspirin. I waited hours for the pills to take effect, and I read a few magazines. I played my clarinet. I fed my cat. Eventually I figured out they were vitamins. They gave me horrible indigestion.It didn’t start there. I had such a traumatic childhood. It scarred me emotionally. Every evening, my father would give me a Freudian analysis before dinner. I still cringe every time somebody lists the ways I’m similar to a turkey. Please sit still. We were of course very poor. My parents couldn’t afford to take me to the movies, so they took me to the grocery store to watch chickens cooking on a spit. The storeowners eventually told us we’d either have to buy something or stop coming. My parents gave them a similar ultimatum and attempted to sell me.The other evening I was at a party and the guy with the hors d’oeuvres just walked passed me every time. I didn’t even want cocktail weenies, but I strolled up to him, I stopped him – and I must have eaten thirty or forty. I was compelled to prove to myself that I’m not a coward. And to be honest, it’s why I’m standing here right now. I never even liked that towel. I think it gave me this rash on my back here. I hope its not athlete’s foot. The smell of that fast-acting Tinactin formula causes me to lose consciousness. I have to wear a gas mask whenever I’m in the locker room. The other night I was watching a special version of Desperate Housewives which only comes into my home. I pay extra for it. On this version, the voices are dubbed with actors speaking German. The effect is so chilling that I hide behind the sofa. It feels like verbal abuse.Its funny I’ve even come this far. I used to work at a grocery store as a delivery boy–Hey, don’t walk away, I was just starting to feel comfortable around you. Please come back. Oh well. I’m not even sure he spoke English. At least I got my beach towel back. I can’t wait until I tell my analyst about this one. I wonder if she’s free at eleven?