I pull the string and signal the bus to stop. 12 seconds later, I start to walk towards the now opened doors. I wish the driver a good evening as he smiles and shuts the door. The bus drives off, leaving me besides the empty dark loud streets. It’s been a long day. I make my way towards my apartment where my keys beg to stay hidden. Mustering an expression of annoyance, I argue with my keys. I win. As the door to my apartment opens, I am greeted by an assault upon my sense of hearing. My lack of sound level tolerance annoys me as I ponder the fact that he has every right to listen to whatever he wants. What is wrong with me? I smile to the now waving roommate as I quickly cross the living room, into the apartment hall that leads to my room. I drop my bag on the bed as I let my mind unwind for a moment. Unfortunately, it fails to unwind, and instead fires off all the responsibilities weighing on the dark corners of my thoughts. I’m exhausted. Hunger has not entered my sphere of recognition, nevertheless I seek a worthy distraction and so I proceed to the kitchen. A half empty bottle of tequila begs for my attention. Instead, I wander towards the front door and I head out. I need silence, but even as I realize my desire for such thing, I am confronted by the realization that silence is nowhere to be found. My feet instinctively lead me towards Publix Supermarket with its bright lights and super clean environment. As the automatic doors open the 80’s assault springs upon me and wakes me into apprehension. Is that Madonna? Normally, I would not mind her voice. Tonight however, I wanted anything but anything. Nothing would be nice. As I wandered the aisles of the supermarket, making my mental inventory of things-I-did-not-need-and-probably-should-not-buy-but-what-the-heck-Im-going-to-buy-it-anyways, I came face to face with a distraction that had the power to kill while smiling. This is a distraction I wanted nowhere near me and yet wanted very close to me. We nod to each other, and I pass by making sure to turn and
go 4 aisles down before I turn to continue my very important frivolous grocery inventory. Passing girls talking about their girlfriends and others talking about…whatever, in some other language, I look at my feet and say to them in a language only they understand “silly feet, there’s no silence here”…but they only laugh at me. I proceed to move towards the end of the aisle and as I am about to exit, my line of vision is interrupted by someone entering my same aisle. You’ve got to be kidding me. It’s the distraction. Again I move past it and make my way to the deli department where I am greeted by a gorgeous girl. I smile, but the smile is but a façade. She asks me for my desire, and I express to her my request. My desire unfortunately has been robbed by this world tonight, and again I look at my feet to tell them “silly feet, there is no silence here” But they just shrug. I look up to notice the girl preparing my sub. On all account she’s, beautiful. Long curly dark hair, deep dark brown eyes, with long flirty eye lashes. Her face is in that perfect proportion that tells you she’s innocent, but knows enough to be dangerous. She returns to where I am located as I stand there pretending to stare at an empty shelve where tea and juices apparently once populated it. She smiles as she asks for a continuation of my desire; and so I proceed to give her a continuation of my request. Her smile is by all accounts enlightening. I don’t want to ruin her night with my mood; therefore I smile as big as I can as I explain to her my frivolous request. As her eyes meet mine, I realize, I may have smiled a bit too much. Any other guy would see this moment and possibly proceeded to ask for her number. I on the other hand wanted nothing to do with her number. I could ask her to go to lunch. Sure. I could ask her to go to a movie, maybe. I could ask her to go on a date. Nope. I thank her for the now finished sub as I grab it from her hand and place it on my cart. I tell my heart, “sorry, there is no silence there” as I turn the cart around and head over to the cashier. My heart replies with weeping as my feet complain.