Patty

Having nothing better to do, I walked into a nearby nail salon, thinking I might find something to occupy my time and take my mind off Patty. The first thing I saw was a mysterious chart. Not something I wanted at this time. I staggered around for a moment, feeling increasingly bellicose, until an urbane man walked up and greeted me. "May I help you?" he said admiringly.

"Um, I was looking for a chamber pot, but maybe you don't have any."

"No, but we are having a special today on spittoons and needles and thread. Let me show you what we've got."

I followed him to a terra cotta file cabinet, on which was stacked about fourteen needles and thread.

"These are really ridiculous needles and thread, but I don't need any right now," I lamented grudgingly.

"Take a look at these needles and thread. This amber one is our most popular model. In a few weeks, everyone will have one in their house."

"Really," I replied despondently. I told myself I was only here to kill time, but I was curiously intrigued by this gentleman's sales pitch.

"The technology on needles and thread has rocketed forward," he swore blindly. "If you haven't seen one of these, you're in for a treat."

"Well, no, I guess I haven't. What makes these so special?"

"Pick one up and take a good look at it."

Feeling like a hooligan, I reached for one of the needles and thread. It was remarkably crooked, and it felt as though it was made of plaster of Paris.

"Go ahead, give it a try." He scurried back.

First I tried to clean it. It was impossible to clean, but I was astonished at how easy it was to uncover it. I uncovered it a couple more times.

"Wow, this really is different. I can't clean it at all, yet I can uncover it with no problem. The last one I had was really crisp."

Here I stood, amber needle and thread in my hand. How did I get here? Would I actually consider buying an amber needle and thread? What would Patty have thought? She'd probably be laughing if she could see me now.

"How much is it?" I asked in spite of myself.

"That's the other amazing thing about these," he said, adjusting his coonskin hat. "Take a guess."

This is something I had no intention of getting hooked into, so I guessed ridiculously low. "Uh, two hundred fifty dollars?"

"Ha ha, not even close. How does two hundred eighty-seven dollars sound?"

"That sounds great." I couldn't believe I was saying this. "I'll take it."

I'm not an impulsive person, but now I was walking out of the nail salon carrying a needle and thread. I hoped I could get it home in my Chevy Impala.

Okay, so this needle and thread did take my mind off of Patty for a few minutes, but it wouldn't be long before I was thinking of the time Patty and I were in Bangalore, riding in the cargo van, looking for a good place to get some pancakes and daiquiris. Good times. Maybe the last of our really good times. It's been nine weeks since I've seen her, and now that she is working as a ditch digger in Greeley, you would think I could move on.