No Ordinary Retard
Brrr- RING! Brrr-RING!
I picked up the phone.
“Hey, you wanna skip the walk today and just meet up for brunch? I’m running errands and it’s really nasty out here.” she said.
I paused. “No, I’m gonna go. How about I meet you after I’m done?” I replied.
“O - k.”
Ten minutes later.
Brrr- RING! Brrr-RING!
“Do you want to be ordinary?” I said, without saying hello.
“What?”
Stressing each word, I asked, “Do you want to be ordinary?”
“WHAT?” she responded, confused.
“Do you want to be ordinary, or extraordinary?” I spelled out.
“Okay. I’ll meet you at the woods.”
We met at our usual spot. Her favorite, and one of mine, but I’m much more inclined to go out and explore different areas. I get bored with the same old trails - she feels more comfortable knowing her way around. I’ve gotten lost in the woods - she never has.
It was cold, gray and raining and I started to wonder if this was such a good idea. It’s forty-five minutes I thought to myself - we’ll get wet and it’s going to be cold, so what. Just get through it. I needed to do it.
We took the widest trail and the one we guessed would be the least muddy. Once you start moving, you really don't notice the cold and rain that much, and the conversation is a good distraction.
“Look ahead of you.” I said. “Now look behind you. Do you see anyone?”
She turned back and forth. “Uh, no.” she replied with a hint of wondering where this was going.
“That’s right. Ordinary people would not be out here right now.”
She turned and looked at me - chin down, eyebrows raised, eyes wide and focused directly on mine, “You’re retarded. You know that, right?”
And I could hear what else she was thinking - ORDINARY PEOPLE AREN’T OUT HERE BECAUSE IT’S FREAKIN’ COLD AND RAINING AND THEY’RE NOT STUPID - STUPID!
This wider path, with all its little pebbles still had plenty of mud puddles we had to walk through. I was smart to wear those beat up old sneakers I’d almost abandoned not long ago for a prettier pair. My feet were soaked and the rain was seeping right through the too-long sleeves of my wind breaker. I curled my hands up inside the warm fleece I wore underneath letting the wind breaker sleeves drip with water, and periodically I‘d jerk my head to the side forcing droplets of rain off of my baseball hat.
“Do your thighs feel like logs?” I shouted breathlessly through the sound of the pouring rain.
“I can‘t feel my thighs.” she shouted back.
She hadn’t asked to turn back early and I was inwardly surprised and pleased. Several times I had to follow her through big puddles and wished I was the one in front so I didn’t know what was coming. Instead I’d watch her tip-toe through them as though it’d make a difference, and know I was next. She felt it, but I got to watch it and then feel it. Somehow in my mind that seemed twice as cruel.
We did the whole trail from beginning to end with a high-five hand slap at the halfway point and then again at the end.
“Whew! That wasn’t bad.” she admitted after our little adventure. “Now let’s go eat.”
I started my car and peeled off the drenched wind breaker that I rolled into a ball and threw onto the passenger-side floor. Being out of the rain felt good, but then the heat felt even better.
I waited for what felt like too long of a time before her car started following mine, but finally she caught up and we headed off to the diner, still, in pouring rain.
We pulled into adjoining parking spaces, looked over at one another through the dark gray fog and nodded our heads as if to say, “Ok, let’s make a run for it!”.
It was deliciously warm inside, as though there could‘ve been a fireplace hidden somewhere. As we were being led to our booth my ass started to thaw and I realized that the back of my yoga pants were completely drenched and sticking to me and my fleece top was not long enough to cover the fact that I might‘ve been indecent. I didn’t want to know.
The waitress served us tea and I cupped my hands around the mug trying to absorb every bit of heat I could get. It was setting in just how cold I was and I kept rubbing my newly heated hands up and down my thighs to warm them.
She, on the other hand, seemed perfectly comfortable and didn’t even look like she’d just spent almost an hour in the rain running up and down forest hills and wading through mud puddles.
And the reason it took her so long to follow me to the diner is because she, the smarter one of us two, simply changed shoes and peeled a layer of clothing off so she had warm dry clothes to wear to brunch. Meanwhile, I sat there with completely soaked shoes, wet pants, wet sleeves and a baseball hat that was dripping water droplets into my Greek omelet.
Apparently, I am a retard, but not an ordinary one.
I picked up the phone.
“Hey, you wanna skip the walk today and just meet up for brunch? I’m running errands and it’s really nasty out here.” she said.
I paused. “No, I’m gonna go. How about I meet you after I’m done?” I replied.
“O - k.”
Ten minutes later.
Brrr- RING! Brrr-RING!
“Do you want to be ordinary?” I said, without saying hello.
“What?”
Stressing each word, I asked, “Do you want to be ordinary?”
“WHAT?” she responded, confused.
“Do you want to be ordinary, or extraordinary?” I spelled out.
“Okay. I’ll meet you at the woods.”
We met at our usual spot. Her favorite, and one of mine, but I’m much more inclined to go out and explore different areas. I get bored with the same old trails - she feels more comfortable knowing her way around. I’ve gotten lost in the woods - she never has.
We took the widest trail and the one we guessed would be the least muddy. Once you start moving, you really don't notice the cold and rain that much, and the conversation is a good distraction.
She turned back and forth. “Uh, no.” she replied with a hint of wondering where this was going.
“That’s right. Ordinary people would not be out here right now.”
She turned and looked at me - chin down, eyebrows raised, eyes wide and focused directly on mine, “You’re retarded. You know that, right?”
And I could hear what else she was thinking - ORDINARY PEOPLE AREN’T OUT HERE BECAUSE IT’S FREAKIN’ COLD AND RAINING AND THEY’RE NOT STUPID - STUPID!This wider path, with all its little pebbles still had plenty of mud puddles we had to walk through. I was smart to wear those beat up old sneakers I’d almost abandoned not long ago for a prettier pair. My feet were soaked and the rain was seeping right through the too-long sleeves of my wind breaker. I curled my hands up inside the warm fleece I wore underneath letting the wind breaker sleeves drip with water, and periodically I‘d jerk my head to the side forcing droplets of rain off of my baseball hat.
“Do your thighs feel like logs?” I shouted breathlessly through the sound of the pouring rain.
“I can‘t feel my thighs.” she shouted back.
She hadn’t asked to turn back early and I was inwardly surprised and pleased. Several times I had to follow her through big puddles and wished I was the one in front so I didn’t know what was coming. Instead I’d watch her tip-toe through them as though it’d make a difference, and know I was next. She felt it, but I got to watch it and then feel it. Somehow in my mind that seemed twice as cruel.
We did the whole trail from beginning to end with a high-five hand slap at the halfway point and then again at the end.
“Whew! That wasn’t bad.” she admitted after our little adventure. “Now let’s go eat.”
I started my car and peeled off the drenched wind breaker that I rolled into a ball and threw onto the passenger-side floor. Being out of the rain felt good, but then the heat felt even better.
I waited for what felt like too long of a time before her car started following mine, but finally she caught up and we headed off to the diner, still, in pouring rain.
We pulled into adjoining parking spaces, looked over at one another through the dark gray fog and nodded our heads as if to say, “Ok, let’s make a run for it!”.
It was deliciously warm inside, as though there could‘ve been a fireplace hidden somewhere. As we were being led to our booth my ass started to thaw and I realized that the back of my yoga pants were completely drenched and sticking to me and my fleece top was not long enough to cover the fact that I might‘ve been indecent. I didn’t want to know.
The waitress served us tea and I cupped my hands around the mug trying to absorb every bit of heat I could get. It was setting in just how cold I was and I kept rubbing my newly heated hands up and down my thighs to warm them.
She, on the other hand, seemed perfectly comfortable and didn’t even look like she’d just spent almost an hour in the rain running up and down forest hills and wading through mud puddles.
And the reason it took her so long to follow me to the diner is because she, the smarter one of us two, simply changed shoes and peeled a layer of clothing off so she had warm dry clothes to wear to brunch. Meanwhile, I sat there with completely soaked shoes, wet pants, wet sleeves and a baseball hat that was dripping water droplets into my Greek omelet.Apparently, I am a retard, but not an ordinary one.
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