PANTIES UNDER THE BRIDGE
First, of course, I needed to make myself suffer a bit more. As I sat outside the restaurant in my car, with the engine running and my own guilt about the environment and my wastefulness, and struggled about whether or not now was the right time and if this was for me and what it would mean to my pride and whether it would make me heavy and sad... finally I threw all caution to the wind and went in. It turned out to be a fast food restaurant with no wait staff, just register people--all of whom were young twenty somethings recently imported from Tajikistan. I knew at once that this was not to be part of my life's path and felt a bit of relief over it, but not enough to walk back out right away. I decided to try the food and then the coffee and that's when someone tapped me on the shoulder and handed me a wad of something saying: I believe you dropped this. It was my underwear. It was used, dirty underwear and an elderly balding man was handing it to me and as my color turned slowly to fuscia, I thanked him and he answered: "Believe me, it was my pleasure." Only that answer could have appeased me and made this a story to share with all of you b/c it was so damn funny. All my weighing and wondering and not acting and then my old underwear falls out of my pant's leg and that's it--there's nothing to do but laugh and be ligh-hearted and get some persepctive.