January 31, 2006

20/365, Freddy

Freddy was the son of the deli items salesman at the places I chefed. His dad brought him once, fishing for more business, wearing one shoe. Me: "What happened, Freddy, you lose a shoe?" Him: "No, Chef, I found one."

Posted by dwaber at 08:37 AM

January 30, 2006

19x365, Karen

Karen was the aerobics instructor wife of the club tennis pro. Blonde, built, dumber than a box of rocks. He bought her a new TransAm convertible, she ran it so completely dry of oil the engine seized. What blinking light?

Posted by dwaber at 12:57 PM

January 29, 2006

18/365, Ed

Ed is the salesman's salesman. The product is secondary. He sells, instead, that thing that is the same in all sales transactions. He's married a woman just like his mother two times now. None of the four can see it.

Posted by dwaber at 02:58 PM

January 28, 2006

17/365, Jack

Jack said, "To deliver the line, any line really, you need to have all of the possible ways of saying the line in your head, all at once, and then just say it. That's the right way to say it."

Posted by dwaber at 01:50 PM

January 27, 2006

16/365, Erika

Erika is hot buttered popcorn to talk with. She knows the cotton candiest stories about mixed nut people, and, when you talk to her you feel like you're the most chocolate covered coffee bean person she's ever met, so far.

Posted by dwaber at 01:55 PM

January 26, 2006

15/365, Michael

Michael's an artist. You're supposed to guess what he wants. Him: "Don't you think it'd look better if...?" Me: "No, or I would've done it that way. I can do it that way, but I ain't saying it looks better."

Posted by dwaber at 02:00 PM

January 25, 2006

14/365, Marjorie

Marjorie is my half sister (same father, different mother), seven years my senior. She taught me how to read before I was old enough for school, so when I finally got there I was little Mr. Been There, Done That.

Posted by dwaber at 01:56 PM

January 24, 2006

13/365, Glenn

Glenn is my father; together we're a case study in men who are bad contact initiators. Photos of us at the same ages could be of brothers. If I have a photo of us together, I don't know its location.

Posted by dwaber at 01:10 PM

January 23, 2006

12/365, Jon

Jon is a nice enough guy but can't make it through even the shortest of conversations without reminding you of his religious beliefs through some subtle or conspicuous reference. I always wondered which of us he was trying to convince.

Posted by dwaber at 01:35 PM

January 22, 2006

11/365, Alex

Alex is her best friend's almost opposite in everything from looks to personality. She's boy crazy and still has a blurty almost-pushy wit that is quicker than her social graces. The boys of her world are damned and blessed.

Posted by dwaber at 02:00 PM

January 21, 2006

10/365, Terry

Terry delivered for a caterer I cooked for. He invariably chose the older station wagon (no heat, no aircon) over the new one. I asked him why, he looked wide-eyed at me and said, "The Bomber has FM, man."

Posted by dwaber at 03:34 PM

January 20, 2006

9/365, Paula

Paula reminded me that it is prudent to be vigilant in the search for reluctance in others. Even when it can't be clearly seen, it may be there, like a layer of mist ice under a polite blanket of snow.

Posted by dwaber at 01:18 PM

January 19, 2006

8/365, Bill

Bill had the most beautiful abdominal muscles I've ever seen. He was a pure mesomorph, and I doubt he did anything special to exercise them. They weren't fists like six pack abs, just gracefully defined, in both flex and stretch.

Posted by dwaber at 12:47 PM

January 18, 2006

7/365, Mario

Mario confuses free speech with free lunch and believes he has a constitutionally protected right to broadcast his own agenda to crowds of people assembled by others for other purposes. He cries "censorship" to anyone who'll listen. Increasingly few do.

Posted by dwaber at 12:38 PM

January 17, 2006

6/365, Gloria

Gloria worked at the sensory deprivation tank place, and after locking up was a bartender down the street. She was also a filmmaker. Somewhere there's footage of me, shirtless, running through a fog saturated field away from an inescapable crucifix.

Posted by dwaber at 12:55 PM

January 16, 2006

5/365, Rich

Rich was the patriarch of the large (in every sense) family next door to my in-laws. His dog, Spike, was a Rottweiler that played with orange pylons like they were sock toys, and dented automobiles with his tail wags.

Posted by dwaber at 02:41 PM

January 15, 2006

4/365, Betsy

Betsy said, the day we met, she hated the fact that every boy she introduced to her roommate ended up falling for her roommate. I was so swept away by Betsy I promised I'd be the exception. I was wrong.

Posted by dwaber at 01:40 PM

January 14, 2006

3/365, Annie

Annie put herself through graduate school as a stripper; cleared 60k/year, mostly cash, in three shifts a week. Razzing coworkers she would--and could--maintain, "If you can see the thong, there's somethin' wrong." She cheats at miniature golf.

Posted by dwaber at 03:29 PM

January 13, 2006

2/365, Barbie

Barbie (possibly not her name; definitely how I always remembered her, because she was like the doll) was my sister's friend from across the street at our grandparents'. She had her bellybutton eliminated through cosmetic surgery when I was eight.

Posted by dwaber at 02:12 PM

January 12, 2006

1/365, Marlea

Marlea is my mother. She's impossible to fit into forty words, even all verbs. An artist turned minister (same job: one uses pigments, the other the wreckage and joy of being human). Everything good I will ever be begins here.

Posted by dwaber at 12:26 PM