the edge

Weird happenings. I planned to meet my fella at the park yesterday after work--an sunny day in the 80's, perfect for a suppertime picnic. A bunch of high school boys was at one of the 2 picnic tables when I arrived, and at 7pm they were already pretty drunk. I walked past, game face on, but they waylaid me, teasing, was I going to hang out with them. No thanks, I said, breezing by. I sat at the other table. A boy approached, holding 2 beers and a very sharp knife. Hey, wanna--I want you to shotgun with me, he said quietly. No thanks, I said, too quickly. He reddened. Kept staring at the knife. I felt a twinge of uncertainty. He was slow, possibly. Not as drunk as his friends, looking on from a distance. Sorry, I said, I'm meeting someone here. Thanks, though. He stumbled back to his jeering friends. A few minutes later, he was back, more insistent, two more boys right behind him, laughing. I want to shotgun these with you. I was mad now. You guys need to fuck off, I said, without preamble. I'm meeting my boyfriend here. We just want to hang out after work. The two hesitated. Fuck off--I mean it. They did. My fella arrived, also turned down a beer. Ultimately, we decided not to stick around. The boys were getting drunker and louder and we were cornered in a remote part of the park.
*
Today on the bus, a slender girl wearing a huge backpack sat down beside me. She didn't take off the pack and there was only one seat available so she had to sit sideways, knees drilling into my leg, her face inches from mine. I looked up from my book. She produced an apple. Proceeded to bite into it, deliberately. I looked up again. She stared at me, and bit off an enormous chunk of apple, chewed it. Reached across me to signal for the next stop. Whew, I thought. Thank goodness crazyville here is leaving soon. But she didn't get off at the next stop. She dug her mouth into the apple again. Waited to bite until I looked up. Jesus. Reached across me again to hit the signal. Again did not get off the bus. That's it, I said. Excuse me. I rose. She sprang up, skittered to the front of the bus. The fuck?
*
And I saw an old antagonist from work, a consultant making six figures with a swollen ego that must be inversely proportionate to his tiny member. He had the gall to touch my arm and say what a long time it had been. Yes, I said, unsmiling. It has.
*
On a happier note, I get to see the Good Husbands open next week for PUTS.