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tomoatmeal: “You want ingredients?” Nobody answered.  Of course they did!  Somebody asked, didn’t they?  I didn’t just make it up. “I’ll give you some ingredients,” I said.  “How about two cars and street that is for the most part, deserted?  Do you like those ingredients?”  One of the students said, “What?” and another student, a female, giggled. “If one of the two cars in the nearly empty street is a parking enforcement vehicle and the other one is just a regular old car, then it seems like we might be on to something.” I moved my eyes around the room, looking at the students first and then the teacher, who looked at war with himself.  “And the dilemma,” I said, “is that the young man in the regular old car is unable to start it.  He tries and tries, but it won’t catch.  Nothing.  And now, an ever bigger problem is that in two minutes, the parking enforcement officer can legally issue the man a ticket for having his car parked in the road during street sweeping hours.” I sighed and twisted my feet so they stayed within the boxes of the tile floor. “But for now, all the man can do is watch the parking officer stare at him like a buzzard.  Two minutes he has to wonder about the nature of the situation and the nature of the officer.  Will the young man’s effort count?  That he got up, got out of bed and went to move his car?  Will it be rewarded by a reprieve or are the rules, the rules?” “What happened?” asked one of the students. “I shot him as soon as he stepped out of his car,” I said.  “So I don’t know.  God damn, it’s bright in here.”  Another student raised her hand.  “The whole thing about the ingredients was just me asking about the ingredients to the cookies you were eating.  They looked good.” “I was eating cookies?” I asked.  “Fuck.  When?  How did I get in here?” “You crawled through the window,” said the teacher.  “You crawled in and said that you had cookies to share.” “Well, shit,” I said.  “Sorry about that.  And sorry about not sharing any cookies.” On the way out, I thought about the girl who asked about the ingredients to sugar cookies. “What an idiot,” I thought.  “She must be so stupid to have the need to ask about something that basic.” And in this way, berating her, I managed to pull myself together and move forward.  There were people in far worse spots than I was. “Like that girl,” I thought.  “What an idiot!” THE END

tomoatmeal:

“You want ingredients?”

Nobody answered.  Of course they did!  Somebody asked, didn’t they?  I didn’t just make it up.

“I’ll give you some ingredients,” I said.  “How about two cars and street that is for the most part, deserted?  Do you like those ingredients?” 

One of the students said, “What?” and another student, a female, giggled.

“If one of the two cars in the nearly empty street is a parking enforcement vehicle and the other one is just a regular old car, then it seems like we might be on to something.”

I moved my eyes around the room, looking at the students first and then the teacher, who looked at war with himself. 

“And the dilemma,” I said, “is that the young man in the regular old car is unable to start it.  He tries and tries, but it won’t catch.  Nothing.  And now, an ever bigger problem is that in two minutes, the parking enforcement officer can legally issue the man a ticket for having his car parked in the road during street sweeping hours.”

I sighed and twisted my feet so they stayed within the boxes of the tile floor.

“But for now, all the man can do is watch the parking officer stare at him like a buzzard.  Two minutes he has to wonder about the nature of the situation and the nature of the officer.  Will the young man’s effort count?  That he got up, got out of bed and went to move his car?  Will it be rewarded by a reprieve or are the rules, the rules?”

“What happened?” asked one of the students.

“I shot him as soon as he stepped out of his car,” I said.  “So I don’t know.  God damn, it’s bright in here.”

 Another student raised her hand.  “The whole thing about the ingredients was just me asking about the ingredients to the cookies you were eating.  They looked good.”

“I was eating cookies?” I asked.  “Fuck.  When?  How did I get in here?”

“You crawled through the window,” said the teacher.  “You crawled in and said that you had cookies to share.”

“Well, shit,” I said.  “Sorry about that.  And sorry about not sharing any cookies.”

On the way out, I thought about the girl who asked about the ingredients to sugar cookies.

“What an idiot,” I thought.  “She must be so stupid to have the need to ask about something that basic.”

And in this way, berating her, I managed to pull myself together and move forward.  There were people in far worse spots than I was.

“Like that girl,” I thought.  “What an idiot!”

THE END

96 notes

Sep21