Wordplay: Solo

INTRODUCTION TO WORDPLAY:
Wordplay is a writing exercise where a word is picked at random and used to write a scene.

–Wordplay word: SOLO–

Monologue of an Everyday Working Stiff who is Slightly Odd

This morning I woke up and the first thing I thought of was espresso. The very next thing I thought of was that I must have a pretty sad life if the first thing I think about when I wake up is a shot of espresso. I continued to lie on my bed, wrapped in several layers of sheets that somehow always manage to tangle up at the bottom of the bed during the night and quickly fell back asleep. I dropped right in the middle of some crazy dream that I can’t remember. The second alarm went off and I woke with a start. The first thing I thought of when I woke up was how I had thought of espresso when the first alarm went off. Man, my life is sad.

I used my mind power to get my legs off the bed. They couldn’t make it all the way this morning and sort of half swung off the edge of the bed. I was okay with it. I drifted back to sleep with my legs hanging off the bed but guilt kept me from enjoying another hour of sleep. It made my hands wipe the crinklies from my eyes. Yes, I call them crinklies. It reminds me of childhood. I focused on my breathing for a minute or so while staring at the ceiling. I had done a terrible job painting it. There’s streaks and cracking and other signs of a guy who just stopped caring. There’s also one line where the beam is clearly visible through the dry wall. The management company tells me it’s just the building settling but I’m sure the place is gonna cave in on me at some point. I wouldn’t mind too much, as long as I got out alive. I’d be set with the insurance money. I looked at the clock and jumped up to take a shower.

The shower was hot. I like it when its hot. So I took my time massaging my scalp. I always try to recreate the way the girls in the hair salon wash my hair but I never even come close. They have some secret method of destressing your head muscles. Some kind of tantric magic or something. They know all the right spots. I often wish I could sit down in my shower. There’s just not enough space though. It’s one of those 4 foot-wide stand-up showers where you barely have enough room to turn around. If I sat down I would likely fall asleep anyway so it’s probably best that I don’t have the space. Instead I sort of bend over and try to touch my toes. It makes me feel good. While I’m down there I let the water fall over my hair and across my face. I can’t put my face directly in front of the shower head because of the high pressure. It hurts. But when I use my head as an intermediary it works great.

But back to my morning. I got out of the shower and I couldn’t find my towel. I went to my room to look for a towel and I realized they were all dirty. I thought about curling up in bed but then I heard water running in the bathroom. I trudged back in without a towel. I was getting cold. It turns out I hadn’t turned the faucet off. See, there’s this really loud noise that my shower makes when its on; almost like a sputtering car engine - a really big sputtering car engine. But there’s a trick to getting it to stop. You have to leave the bathroom sink on while you’re in the shower and there’s no sound. Hence the reason for the faucet being left on. I turned off the sink and noticed my nakedness in the mirror. I could excuse my size because I was cold. I turned around to look at my back. I get hair in sporadic spots and it wasn’t too attractive that morning. My back reminds me of a burned out forest that is starting over. Vegetation sprouts up in random spots depending on the soil quality and other coincidences like where seeds choose to land. The result is a baby forest with no rhyme or reason. A pine tree here, a baby oak there, a patch of grass way over there and barren land with some weeds in between. Ah well.

I dried off with a dirty towel from the laundry basket, threw on some clothes and left for work. I had to bring a bowl of cereal in the car with me because I had spent too much time in the shower. I drove with my left knee and multi-tasked while I drove. Cereal one moment, look at the road the next. The traffic is generally bad on the highway so it’s not like I’m driving sixty while eating. As fate would have it though, I spilled the last gulp of my milk from the bowl to my lap when a punked out highschool b**** bumped me. No damage done except to my trousers.

There was a Starbucks up ahead. Lucky me. I pulled into the long line of drones waiting for their morning coffee and practiced my pronunciation of the word ‘grande’ while I waited. The ‘r’ has to be trilled to make it sound natural and I usually have a problem with trills. I learned that from my high school choir teacher. She made me sing with the basses even though I hadn’t hit puberty. When it was my turn I asked for some napkins. Then I became too nervous to say grande. I just didn’t want to sound stupid. I had spent too many mornings impressing Natalie with small talk to screw it up now. One of these days I’m going to ask her out. I looked at the menu and said the first thing I could find.

“Can I also get an espresso please? A solo? Thanks.”