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{the exact moment i decided to be a motivational speaker} andrew borgstrom [It Started Here] Across from the park, a man watered his lawn with the hose at his hip. I couldn’t tell how bald the man was from where I stood. I said words in caps with double exclamation marks because that is how they print it on the tiny packets. The man threw a toupee towards me. The park bathroom was out of paper towels, so I wanted to use the toupee to wipe my thumb clean. I went for the toupee but stopped when I noticed a dog skull in the man’s yard. The man was spraying the skull with the hose. The man stuck his tongue out at me. I looked down and saw another tongue flopping between his feet. [Well, It May Have Started Here] My girlfriend broke up with me six minutes before this, but it seemed longer. It seemed like three sixes. She said, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want kids?” I said, “Once.” But when you wake up soaked in a dream that you pissed your pants in, when your dream has ruined the new bed sheets, then it’s not a dream. It’s over. “Now get the fuck out of my apartment.” It was our apartment, even though I didn’t help with rent, but that was her dog’s fault for urinating on my job interview attire. [Or Here] We met at her work. I took a free map and used it to follow her to her apartment. Actually, I just followed her to her apartment. The map wasn’t necessary. The map wasn’t free either. The apartment was ours now. [This is Probably Important] The lawn-owner pulled a leash from his back pocket. He strapped the collar through the eye sockets of the skull and started for the sidewalk. The skull jumped up and down on its chin. The man looked like he was going to kill a family who picked him up as he hitchhiked in a doctor’s smock. He looked at me like I was that family. The man walked down the sidewalk without pausing at the toupee. [This May Have Nothing to Do With It] I picked up the toupee but dropped it when I realized it was dog fur. Two Mormon missionaries pedaled towards me. I figured they would tell me about the mark of the beast and the evils of masturbation. Everything would finally make sense. I would become a Mormon. I would have three kids, two more than one. I would potty train none of them. We would piss in the baptismal font and get kicked out of the church. The Mormons left a tract about a book they didn’t have a copy of. I wiped my thumb clean with their pamphlet. [This is It] The Mormons pedaled to the west. The same direction the man walking the skull had gone. The same direction I had left soiled linen. The conversation with the Mormons left a salty taste in my mouth. I wondered about the men of Gomorrah who wanted to sodomize three angels but were protected by a father who offered them his three daughters instead. I wondered if anyone would masturbate to a picture of me. I wondered how big the picture would be. And exactly right then. |
