"Jumping", Gladys Nilsson
Elbows
by KARA VANDERBIJL
When he told me he thought I should see other people, I jumped at the chance to please him.
I saw, in no particular order:
— a barber named Lenny with a bald spot between his eyebrows
— a much older man, but only because we took the same bus every day
— the insides of too many peanut-butter sandwiches
— an accountant, Chris, whose number fell out of my pocket at the same moment I saw him reading Game of Thrones on the Brown Line
— a man who bit his fingernails and then touched his iPhone
— Rahm Emanuel at the finish line of a 5K
— my neighbor’s chocolate lab, the existence of whom we were ordered to vehemently deny
— a person I believed to be Robert Downey Jr
— three waiters at breakfast joints who denied they had Earl Grey
— a gentleman with whom I exchanged no words, only glances, over piles of underthings at the laundromat
— a woman who whispered “Thank you, Jesus” when another woman got off the train
— the Turkish Consul General at Lenny’s barber shop
— a hipster who vocalized the “x” in “xmas”
— Chris, in a bookstore; I pretended I didn’t recognize him
— someone shorter, but only because we were sitting down the whole time
— Lady Chatterley’s Lover
— a small child eating a piece of kimchi
— an ancient hippie listening to a transistor radio outside the public library
— an otherwise educated-looking individual who referred to the store as “Bloomie’s”
— a man who vacuumed and shouted into his telephone at the same time
— five-thirty AM
— two women who mistakenly equated “yes, I live here” with “I know the name and location of every restaurant in the city”
— a woman on a regional train who took off her shoes and put on slippers for the three-hour trip
— Canadians
— a young woman carrying a Target bag inside a beat-up J. Crew bag inside a beat-up Anthropologie bag
— Madonna’s hands on another person
— a man who reached out to touch my elbow although he was surrounded by women and I was trying to ignore him
— someone swimming in Lake Michigan
— an abandoned chicken nugget
— a man who knelt to pray over a homeless mother and child, then stood up and walked away
— no snow
— three Santas near the tree in Daley Plaza
— Lenny’s cousins, all equally bald except for one
— a couple in the bar across the street; I made bets on whether or not they’d hook up
— a person who opened a K-cup and ate the coffee grounds inside as if they were yogurt
— a row of women with equally straightened hair and identical Longchamp bags waiting for the train at Southport
— a man on the train who poured coffee from his travel mug into a used Starbucks cup
— a banker, a financial advisor
— one of my old French students in a beret (he attributed it to the weather)
— an average number of doctors and lawyers
— two people who made uncomfortable small talk during the entire commute simply because they happened to be acquainted and on the same train
— Chris’ mother buying nylons at TJ Maxx
— a cashier at Trader Joe’s who tapped into the rich inner emotional life of the woman in front of me while simultaneously checking her apples for bruises
— a baritone
— the bottom of two boxes of Raisin Bran
— a man who flossed through an entire episode of Parks & Recreation
— Lenny’s ex, who finished his sentences and his plate of spaghetti
— a street performer singing carols off key
— someone else leaving a friend’s party early, although presumably not for the same reason
— drunk boys who could presumably still afford cabs
— Chris, again, over lunch, but only because he insisted and agreed to stop reading G.R.R. Martin
— my hairdresser standing in line at the bank with an updo
— the UPS delivery man who left me three notices in beautiful calligraphy
— Lenny, the morning after
— the chocolate lab peeing on the landlord’s roses
Kara VanderBijl is the senior editor of This Recording. She is a writer living in Chicago. She last wrote in these pages about Downton Abbey. She twitters here and tumbls here.
Paintings by Gladys Nilsson.
"Hunting For You" - Robbie Williams (mp3)
"Different" - Robbie Williams (mp3)
