I'm not your bitch, don't hang your shit on me.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

The throne (pt. 1)

Scientists have been able to create many concoctions throughout the years. With every experiment, comes a new conclusion. Without them, there would be no penicillin and polyester.

Yet, even with the barrage of trails and tribulations, one of the things they haven’t been able to manipulate is the space-time continuum. Even with all of the technology around, no one can be in two places at the same time.

And, the manipulation of the space-time continuum is especially important when waiting for a phone call.

Here I am in my bedroom, lying on my bed, with a magazine open to some indeterminate page. I can’t concentrate. The waiting for this particular phone call is excruciating. A few lines of communication can change my future. A few lines of communication can have me employed at the most prestigious, internationally-recognized, cultural organization in North America.

But, this waiting almost didn’t happen.

The first interview was dreadful. Totally unimpressive. Shockingly enough, I was called back for a second interview with the director of the department. This time, I was literate and lively, cultured and cunning. In other words, amazing.

Being told to wait until Friday for the results, I spend most of the day freaking out. Butterflies in my stomach. Hour after hour passes. No phone call. I make sure to walk around with my house phone and my cell phone with me at all times.

There is no phone call on Friday. Fuck.

Attempting to maintain a sense of composure over the weekend, I keep myself busy. But, when Monday rolls around, I take matters into my own hands: I call them.

Picking up the phone, I dial the numbers, ask for the correct extension, and get voicemail.

“Hi, this message is for Coco. This is Steven. Just giving you a call about the job. You were probably really busy on Friday, and couldn’t get back to me. I understand. Well, if you could give me a call back when you can, I’d appreciate it. Thanks.”

Now, I wait.

Unfortunately, I can’t wait for much longer, because the butterflies in my stomach have returned and I they need to be taken care of pronto. When nature calls, you can’t put it on hold.

Hopefully, they won’t call in the next few minutes. God willing…

While in the process of finishing my duties, I hear the phone ring. Please don’t let it be them, please don’t let it be them, I chant in my mind.

My father picks up the phone. Silence. While sitting on the throne, I lean towards the door. My fingers press against the porcelain until they turn the same shade of white. I hear my father’s voice beyond the door.

“Yes… No…”

Ok, it’s probably not them. The muscles in my fingers relax.

“Steven?”

Shit, it’s them. Every muscle in my body clenches...

3 Comments:

Blogger S said...

Anticlimactic, yes.

But, the second part is better.

Can anyone guess what happens...?

October 12, 2005 5:38 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

It's the water company calling, saying, "No matter what you have to do, DO NOT use the toilet?"

October 12, 2005 8:12 pm  
Blogger S said...

Ok, that was a good one.

October 12, 2005 10:30 pm  

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