Darkness and Light
The line at bank leading up to the teller is always jagged, roped off, as if two S's were connected vertically, forcing the members to sort of slither their way to the front, suggesting perhaps there was not anything straight forward about the whole process. I think about this watching from the seat I was directed to shortly upon entering when I informed the lady up front that I was interested in a personal loan. No rush for these type of things, you see.
At the half hour mark, I am certain I should not have skipped breakfast. At an hour, I wish I would've brought something to read. At an hour and a half, I can do nothing but observe people. It seems they wear their most guarded, solemn faces when dealing with money. It is the poker face, to me, that reveals the most pain and fear of the unknown. It is also in watching this that I took notice of a beautiful moment of kindness in which an elderly lady had dropped her cards and, having a great deal of trouble leaning to pick them up, was assisted by two gentlemen, one in front of her and one behind, while many onlookers within the line waited to see if their help was also needed. This was the ray of light returned after my entrance into the building. The light I had with me driving here and playing Jimmy Cliff on my truck stereo with no weighted feelings at all about needing another loan, one to cover them all, stretched out, of course, in a manner in which I would have no issue in paying it back, regardless if my music or literature reels in any substantial income. It is matters like this that prolongs the survival of the modern working man: greater debt to deflate the lesser.
But it is not all serious, I must say. Part of my observing people had more to do with women and evaluating their skin tone, lips, hair, and the shape, and softness as they stood, walked around, and eventually left my sight tragically never to be seen again. It always seems that the most beautiful women appear to me in everyday mundane situations, as opposed to parties, shows, and events one would normally dress up for. It is in the former cases where I feel as if I am seeing the true persona, or closer to it than the masks they wear in a more social climate, this is, after all, a cold Friday morning at a credit union, not exactly ladies night and house deejays.
I am called to a desk by one of the workers, who is also quite beautiful which makes me wonder if any men work here, of course not something I would dare take issue with. Women are famously much better with money than their male counterparts. Business is handled successfully but not without a lecture about my dreadful credit history, given in such a warm tone I could not be offended as if we were kin and she truly concerned of my financial well being, though in retrospect her concern would mostly be to her employer. I, nonetheless, took it as another ray of light fighting its way into my day, had a simple lunch with dessert of one of my favorite restaurants on the way home, resumed the Jimmy Cliff cd, and thought of my gorgeous and bright four year old cousin who I enjoy spending much of my free time. The start of my day thus closes with a grand smile and me, counting my blessings, bathing in light.
Written by Mr. Fluid, 2015