Most Pleasureable Experience of the Day

I found the sweetest glasses frames ever at the garage sale of the neighbor three doors down, two houses past the sex offender and one house past the nice lady who bought boyscout popcorn from Addison while she smoked all over him (to his astonishment). Because I had already walked over and back with J & A, and because supper was coming together insistently, I biked over the second time and bought the glasses and two old DVDs.

Here comes the pleasure:

I put the glasses on while I rode home. They were INTENSE reading glasses. Bike + reading glasses. Trippy, dangerous elation. It was better than heroine.

(Not that I'd know, mom.)


Anonymous said...

I am very lonesome for you and Lynn and Jaelyn and Addison--Dad and Daniel are leaving in the am to close the cabin!! I love you!!

Mrs. Botton said...

I once, in my youthful duhness and naïveté, sat on a grassy patch on the banks of the Arno in Florence, Italy, eating a sandwich with my romm mates. We sat in tank tops & shorts (immediately marked as uncouth Americans in that fashion-forward city), and watched, dumbstruck, as a guy on a moped came flying down the stone steps that lead from the street to the river. He sat against the stonework, and proceeded to do whatever heroin addicts do to fix their jones. He tied off his arm with his belt, snapped a vein, and shot up right in front of us. Sandwich partway to a bite, my mouth agape, I watched his face contort in desperation then sink into complete obliviated bliss.

It both hurt and filled me full of adrenaline watching him, like a train wreck in full view.

It was then we looked around and noticed all the spent needles caught among the reeds along the riverbank. And 3 American girls picnicking in the choice heroin shoot-up spot in Florence.

Weird, I haven't thought of that in an age.