My Life Without Extras

Early Sat 10AM matinee of "The Hangover"...
cashier is also ticket-tearer.
I am 1 of 3 in the Braintree AMC Theatre #2.
The floors are chipped and peeled back,
exposing cement gingivitis & the eternal stickiness
of soda spills.
It is the lonliest place in the world.
Center seat & watching the car commercials
& the TV show previews.
I have a migraine, my sinuses clenched & pulsing
just pushing behind the bridge of my nose & eyes.
Perfect for the movie, right?
Feel as the protagonists feel?
Dizzy & dry-stomached & every source of light
a volcano flaregun.

In the store afterwards,
clothes shopping for the 1st time in months
(big network night tonight-- must look sharp)...
I am a stray amid middle-aged couples,
the wives leading their pot-bellied counterparts
to this belt rack or that dress shirt.
But Bob's Superstores seems strangely desolate.
Kohl's is sinister & air-conditioned w/
only the occassional intercom announcement for
further discounts.
If there are more people here, I don't see them...
I have to urinate
& my head is hurting.
I am disinterested & dull-witted as I stumble
here & there...
ultimately finding a hipster fedora & cheap short-sleeves.

My 1st hour in the Bridgewater coffeehouse,
there is a dead skateboarder on the sunken leather sofa
& me.
No one comes in for some time.
When the skateboarder comes to, revealing pulse &
purpose & visiting friends...I am envious.
For me there is only me.
I am a cheapskate when it comes to friends & acquaintances.
I spend more on the clothes purchase.
There IS a sparse population around me,
but on the periphery of some campfire,
stepping on branches & rustling leaves...
denoting their unseen presence.
But often, more & more often...they are just memories.
Of college.
Of heydays.
Of girlfriends past (oh way way way past, bucko).

I am a cost-efficient 1-man show.
I have limited settings.
And no crowd scenes.
The Filmmakers' Shindig tonight will seem extravagent
& detached.
Bad stock footage inserted incorrectly.
A shoddy cut-and-paste affair in which I must venture,
must break through...
Face those social fears & ice cube frights.
It's fight or flee.
I can do it. I have to.
This detachment is only growing worse,
the mental novacaine is limiting.

Someday I'll have a co-star & supporting players
& character actors & groups of ten to twenty.
Someday there will be battle scenes & chariots
& mounted men.
Parades of support & "we're there for you"...
a birthday toast across the crowded table,
the big budgeted boost.

But for now...I have you.
Anonymous suggested "you".
I am dicatating to the massless.

Oh look at that. The coffeeshop's full now.