Florida didn't have it, and neither do you.
written by Julie R. Neidlinger 14 comments link this postI spent today in Grand Forks, preparing for another round of blood money in order to get together the funds necessary for Nicaragua. The screening went fine, ending with the usual three-vial blood draw before I was out the door. I pressed the gauze down on the inside of my elbow when the draw was done and walked to my car. It was then that I noticed the gauze was sopping, my fingers feeling wet.
I looked down; the gauze was bright red, a seeping circle, expanding. With morbid curiosity, since I don't tend to be a bleeder, I pulled the gauze back for a short moment and watched a small fountain of blood gush from my arm. Then I reapplied pressure and soon it stopped.
The things that go through my head, the free-associations at any given moment to any random stimuli, often amaze me. The gushing of blood? My first thought was Ponce de Leon. No kidding. That gushing blood was a fountain of youth, or at least, that was the vague connection I was making though I don't know why. It was only a few hours later, in a grocery store, that I appreciated the not-so-random things that fill a day.
The gestalt happened in the aisle with the pasta and sauces. I was trying to decide which pasta sauce to select, always and irritatingly the slow and deliberate shopper. As I stood there, deciding and weighing possible selections' pros and cons, two college guys walked into the aisle and stopped behind me, talking.
"Here, hold the basket."
"It's your stuff."
"No, hold it. I don't want to be seen holding it if some hot chick were around."
If some hot chick were around.
I appreciated the moment as only a rather mousy, life-long wallflower can. In case a hot chick were around, the toilet paper in the shopping basket would be detriment. However, if some decrepit 32-year-old were around, it would be fine. Though I've never thought of myself as hot, I did assume I existed. Not that I want to exist for everyone -- who needs that burden? -- but it just struck me as oddly funny, that I didn't happen to exist at that moment for that category. It was the answer, I suppose, to the question I think we all wonder secretly: what do I look like or seem like to other people? My friend's father had it right when he said that we'd probably all be offended if we realized how little other people were thinking of us, particularly since the driving force for stupidity in humanity is the concern over what others will think.
All this, in front of Newman's Own Tomato and Garlic sauce.
I admit, I had my moment of non-philosophy, a brief moment of embittered anti-platonic thought. It was for moments like this that the karate, the fencing, and the boxing classes of yore would come in handy. Clearly a swift roundhouse or uppercut to knock these to guys back to second grade, where their maturity was still evidently held hostage, was needed. I envisioned the scene, marinara sauce and shattered penne spilled all over, like a mafia hit gone bad, topped in volume only by their newfound humility. I secretly envision lots of scenarios after almost every encounter every day; it's the way of most people who lurk in the background, unnoticed.
I continued looking at the jars of sauce. They walked on, fighting over who would be seen with the toilet paper. I watched them walk away.
Someday you are going to find yourself old and decrepit, around age 32, standing in the pasta aisle, your metabolism down and your blood pressure up, your knees too straight and your back too bent, your hair thinning and your waist thickening. You'll be contemplating sodium content vs. price vs. quantity and suddenly two sweet young things will walk by, not seeing you at all even though you sucked your gut in and thought of your frat days. And then you'll get it; then you'll get what it is to be invisible even though the blood still runs hot in your veins as much as it ever did.
I purchased an additional jar of marinara. Low sodium. Good price.
Labels: my life
Copyright (c) Julie R. Neidlinger 9/05/2006 11:23:00 PM
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14 Comments:
It's tough when that realization hits sometimes. Especially when you still feel like you are only twenty three or so. The lucky people are the ones that DO realize it, though. It keeps us humble and thankful, like for a wife that loves us no matter what we may look like.
By 
Good Ol' Boy, at
6/9/06 06:50
What shoes were you wearing?
By Corrine, at
6/9/06 10:18
I think you're hot.
And men are idiots.
By girlfriday, at
6/9/06 10:43
GF: Thanks. (I can't wait for the Dylan concert in Fargo this Saturday!)
Corrine: Odd. That was one of my first thoughts...flip flops. But flip flops are fine for grocery shopping. I think that, for two idiots afraid to let the world know they need toilet paper, I'm not going to lose much sleep over it all.
I do want to point out that my hair isn't thinning in the least.
By Julie, at
6/9/06 11:12
Shoes aren't the first thing I notice about a woman.
By 
, at
6/9/06 12:12
"If some hot chick were around."
Well, these guys may be shallow, but somehow it is encouraging that there are still college students around who know how to use the subjunctive. (Unless, of course, you corrected the grammar in the quote, in which case they would have no apparent redeeming qualities.)
By Wilhelm, at
6/9/06 12:47
I may have inadvertently corrected the grammar.
By Julie, at
6/9/06 12:59
Modesty is so incredibly sexy!
By , at
6/9/06 13:52
I was going to comment this morning, and was sidetracked by you know who. They are idiots and apparently need glasses!!
By Jacqui, at
6/9/06 15:29
The word "subjunctive" is so exciting.
Not understanding its meaning in English made it difficult to understand it in French.
Still, I thrill at the sound.
By girlfriday, at
7/9/06 01:31
Hello hot chick. Pretty awesome blog you have here. :)
By mis_nomer, at
7/9/06 01:51
I work in the energy industry with men, and I am one of the few women. The other day, I was at a shoot, with my customers, and all of a sudden, I realized they were talking about another saleswoman. "Easy on the eyes, isn't she?" "Oh, yeah, she can call on me anytime." I can totally relate to the "invisible."
Great blog!
By Janie, at
7/9/06 20:07
No dissrect of your charm, grace, intelligence and all that, but, Uh...(I know I'm old, BUT) you ARE hot.
I do know a babe-a-rama when I see it.
Would you rather be babe-a-licious or "hot?" I'm multi-verbal.
By Nodak Jack, at
10/9/06 12:48
See, now I'm blushing.
By Julie, at
11/9/06 00:00
