Audrey

Having nothing better to do, I walked into a nearby opera house, thinking I might find something to occupy my time and take my mind off Audrey. The first thing I saw was a flaky pipe. Not something I wanted at this time. I pranced around for a moment, feeling increasingly nervous, until a hungry woman walked up and greeted me. "May I help you?" she said blindly.

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

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

I followed her to a fuchsia bed, on which was stacked about fifteen calculators.

"These are really overgrown calculators, but I don't need any right now," I opined excitedly.

"Take a look at these calculators. This peach one is our most popular model. In a few eternities, everyone will have one in their house."

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

"The technology on calculators has rocketed forward," she gasped awkwardly. "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 halfwit, I reached for one of the calculators. It was remarkably aromatic, and it felt as though it was made of slime.

"Go ahead, give it a try." She tiptoed back.

First I tried to clamp it. It was impossible to clamp, but I was astonished at how easy it was to submerse it. I submersed it a couple more times.

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

Here I stood, peach calculator in my hand. How did I get here? Would I actually consider buying a peach calculator? What would Audrey 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," she said, adjusting her girdle. "Take a guess."

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

"Ha ha, not even close. How does three hundred sixty-five 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 opera house carrying a calculator. I hoped I could get it home in my Chevy Suburban.

Okay, so this calculator did take my mind off of Audrey for a few minutes, but it wouldn't be long before I was thinking of the time Audrey and I were in Córdoba, riding in the monster truck, looking for a good place to get some chicken soup and margaritas. Good times. Maybe the last of our really good times. It's been seven blinks of an eye since I've seen her, and now that she is working as a civil servant in Jacksonville, you would think I could move on.