Saturday, August 1, 2009

Moments of doubt

I had cleaned and locked up the outside tables tonight. Sweeping up the wet cigarette butts and ice cream wrappers. A woman leaves Ri Ra, [Asian, school girl outfit - "walking cliché," I thought] squats by one of the trees, and spits. And then her mouth continues to contort.

I keep sweeping but watch her dry heave. Should I ask her if she's ok? Should I go inside and get help/backup? What to do? The trash pulls me towards the Ri Ra doors, away from her.

A woman walks over. "Are you okay?"

Schoolgirl, [immediately straightening, not the slightest slur to her voice]: Oh, I'm great! Yeah, thanks, totally fine.

Woman [with obvious doubt]: Are you sure?

Schoolgirl: Yeah, yeah! Thanks. Have a great night!

At that moment Schoolgirl's friends leave the restaurant. "How'd you get out here so fast?"

And now she is presumably hale and hearty, or will be as soon as she finishes rehydrating.

And what of me [objectively; in the mind of that woman; in my own mind]? In The Good Person of Sichuan, I obviously play Vysotsky's character, not the titular role.

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