this is the last time I am doing this

Now I had done what Audrey had sworn me not to do. But, this time was different. I had a plan, after all, this time.

            A plan was something.

            That afternoon, I took three cold showers, back to back. I sang to myself while I did so, scrubbing away imagined dirt or my past life or whatever.

            A past life. People I had once known . Places that had once existed only to be torn up or scorched by fire. I don’t remember much sometimes and it’s a blessing, really. What is there to really remember? Save your memories for the good things, the pleasantries.

            Sometimes I see this photo of me from high school, posing with what was supposed to be a large maple tree out in the wild somewhere. In reality, the dipshits in charge of the photographs had just planted it in the middle of the gymnasium for all the seniors to get pictured with. I have this dopey shit-eating grin plastered across my face that was all meaningless.

            And I have no idea who that girl was or where she went. Sometimes I think I must have killed her, but again:  I don’t remember.

            I watched TV for the remainder of the day. I am not a big TV watcher by nature but it’s a good method of distilling one’s mind. I think I sat there for a row of hours on end, not aware of anything. Soap operas blended into TV movies blended into talk shows.

            “Today’s guest is Carl Murphy. He’s a self-help guru,” said the toothy woman on the screen. She was probably 50 going on 35. On the left corner of the screen, in this bad cursive writing was the name Celeste with an exclaimation point. Celeste!        

            “That is code for BULLSHIT,” I grumbled at the TV. I should tell you how big this TV was. Like five feet. And one of those plasma deals. Is there really a need for that?

            Carl Murphy appeared every bit a sucker. He was as horribly fake as a politician or preacher. He wore a tweed suit and had one leg draped over the other, exposing black wool socks and some designer European shoes. His feminine hands were under his chin pensively. Already, I did not like him. He did not need to say a word.

            “Thanks, Celeste,” he said, in a voice that said he was full of himself and his abilities. “I’m here because I want to change a life today.”

            She chuckled at this, just as fake as he was.

            “I think you will, Carl!”

            “Oh, I know.” At this, I snickered. I leaned back on the lavish sofa that Audrey’s benefactor had directly across from the unnecessarily gigantic TV set.

            “This ought to be good,” I said to myself and no one else. There was no one else- except a large stuffed cat in the corner. Why? I couldn’t tell you that.

            “So there’s probably someone out there watching that realizes their life is a trap. Their 21^st century, materialistic life,” he announced, finally uncrossing his legs and exposing to the world that he was, indeed, not a woman. “I want to help them.”

            The noise I made at this turning point could only be called a “Bronx cheer.” Why was I so bitter? As my sister had helpfully reminded me, I was 25.

            “How do you suggest you help them?” Celeste pressed on. You could tell by this glint in her eye she probably wanted to sleep with him. Things you can tell by just looking at her.

            “Well, Celeste, therein is the problem. People just do not value the power of positivity anymore!”

            “The power of positivity! Ooh, I like the sounds of that. Let’s go to commercial!”

            I threw a spare pillow at the TV and picked up the phone yet again. By then, it had definitely been several hours.

            “Hello?” Audrey answered.   

            “I want to make a positive change in my life,” I greeted her. She scoffed.

            “What the hell are you doing?” She sounded like she was walking, right in mid-step.

            “Expressing my humanity,” I blithely replied. Whether or not she appreciated this comment (or gesture) is lost on me.

            “I don’t think you have any humanity to express, dear,” Audrey retorted. I could hear a crowd raging on in the background.

            “Where are you at?”

            “Walking.”

            “I haven’t destroyed your house. Yet. Yet.”  I didn’t want to tell her about my proposal. What, and have her verbally accost me via phone? I don’t think so.

            “Don’t do it. It’s still not mine yet.”

            “You’re out in traffic, aren’t you? Where are you going? Go to Burger King.” I imagined eating a Whopper. A boy I had dated my first year of college would accompany me to Burger King time and time again. He laughed because I always took the sauce-soaked buns off and threw them away. He called it a “waste.” I told him to fuck off a lot.

            “A Burger King? Why would I go to a Burger King? If I really got hungry for a  hamburger, and I mean a genuine hamburger, there’s a Ruby Tuesday right next door to my hotel.”

            The last commercial- something something about a vacuum cleaner- ended. Celeste was on again. My attention was averted.

            “Audrey! I’m going to have to call you back!” I shouted urgently into the receiver. She really, not in a million years, would understand the priority of this.

            “Please don’t.” That was the last thing I heard from her.

            I was sucked into this talk show garbage for the next half hour of my life. And that’s a half hour too many.

            “Whatever you see yourself doing, you can do,” warbled on Carl Murphy. In the midst of instilling bits of wisdom like that, he also shed personal, biographical details, such as his one failed marriage and the fact he was now married again (so it wasn’t tarnished on him), but his wife was finding it very difficult to conceive. Or she was. Due to a change in her thinking (he labeled it “poisonous” ) they were now seeing their first real glimmer of hope for a long time.

            “What if I see myself doing something bad, Carl?” I questioned. “Huh?” I saw myself doing a lot of bad things.