Jasper and I were taking a short walk just when all the folks at the DMV were getting out of work. Lots of people walking around the alley.
Just then, an apparently-homeless but well-dressed woman in sunglasses and a sharp-looking dress started yelling at us. I stared and rocked awkwardly from foot to foot. Jasper cocked his head and tried to make sense of it.
"Plays! My mother owned five drama schools in the Sixties. My father put me in a fucking limousine when I was five years old. Do you know what that fucking felt like? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT FUCKING FELT LIKE?"
I was thinking, 'Good lord, I wonder if I've been in a play with her before? No more unbalanced than some people I've known.' I couldn't answer her question. Was it a rhetorical question? A leading question? I didn't know.
Jasper had trouble with the question too, and sensibly-enough turned to eat a tuft of grass.
No comments:
Post a Comment