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Meaningless
"Are you seeing someone else?" Paul said.
"No."
"I guess it doesn't bother me if you are. I don't see why you can't-"
"I'm not seeing anyone," Allyson said.
"Are you bored? We can try different things. I know sometimes I get in a rut." Paul took a sip of his drink. He had root beer mixed with sprite.
"That's not it." Allyson ate one of her fries. They were getting cold. The paper placemat was soggy from the ketchup.
"Are you moving? Is it something like that? I once knew a girl that joined the Peace Corps cause she was unsatisfied with her life.
I told her if she was unhappy in California, she'd be unhappy in Cambodia." Paul took the straw out of his drink. Gulped down
the remainder of his beverage.
"I'm not dissatisfied with my life. Things are fine." She reached over; grabbed his drink, not realizing he'd already finished it.
"But you are moving?"
"No."
"I don't get it."
Paul was speechless. Allyson looked at him and smiled. She tried soothing him by rubbing the back side of his hand.
The restaurant was loud. The seats were uncomfortable. The table height was awkward. Paul never understood why fast food
chains made every aspect of the dining experience so annoying.
"Do you not like me?"
"I think you're a wonderful person." Allyson brushed her hair with her hand. It was parted down the middle.
She hadn't combed the split ends out of her head this morning. He always liked that about her. She wore t-shirts.
She didn't wear make-up. She played baseball. Her hair went where it wanted to.
Paul scratched his sideburns. He'd been trying to grow a goatee and sideburns for a month now,
but it looked like it belonged on a twelve year old boy. He thought facial hair would make him
look older, but it had the opposite effect.
"Did I do something that upset you, or gross you out? You would at least tell me if I offended you wouldn't you?"
"You didn't do anything. You were just being yourself, which is great. You should keep on being yourself."
He grabbed his cup. Pulled out a hunk of ice; shoved it in his mouth. "Look. Did you see that?" he said, pointing to a
painting on the wall. The ice mumbled his speech. "Why do they have paintings of food on their walls? I always thought that was weird."
"What kind of décor wouldn't be weird?"
"I see your point. But these are a particularly strange choice. See." He pointed at a different painting.
"It's not just that they're drawings of food. They're abstract food portraits. The egg with the red yolk.
The pineapple popping out the toaster."
"Somebody pitched this idea at a meeting and they agreed to it." She laughed.
"That's weird." He picked up his burger. He'd only eaten half of it. He wasn't hungry. He tore it apart
into several pieces. Pulled sesame seeds out of the bun. Left a pile next to his drink. "I haven't been
here in so long. I wonder why. They have the best fries."
"It's too many calories."
"When I was in High School my friends and I would come here all the time. They were the only place giving out
free refills on sodas back then. McDonalds wasn't doing it. Burger King wasn't. Taco Bell wasn't. Now, everybody's on the band wagon."
"I don't drink soda. It's not worth it."
"Do you remember how they used to deliver the food to your table? They gave you a number and you put
it on your table. They had a couple retarded guys delivering all the food out."
"I don't remember that."
"I always wondered where they stuck retards when they put them in work programs.
Here! But where are they now?" Paul's heart was beating fast. Maybe it was all
the root beer he'd been drinking. "If we're gonna stick around, I'm gonna get another refill."
"What are you getting?" She said.
"I don't know. But not root beer. I'm sick of root beer."
Paul got up; walked over to the soda fountain. He had plenty of ice in his cup already. He couldn't make
up his mind what to get. He picked orange at random. That used to be his favorite drink as a kid.
When he retuned Allyson was taking a bite of his hamburger.
"You think you could sneak a bite while I wasn't looking?"
"Let me have a sip." Her mouth was full of hamburger.
"I thought you didn't drink soda."
"I don't." She grabbed the drink from his hand and took a big gulp.
"Don't drink it all. I don't want to have to refill it again."
"I'm sorry. I'll refill it for you."
"Nah." He sat down. She wiped her mouth off with a one of the dirty napkins lying on the table.
"How can you say that our time together was meaningless? Look at us. We have fun when we're together. I enjoy being with you."
"Yes. It was fun. I enjoyed being with you too. But it was meaningless."
"You're wrong."
"Maybe you don't understand what I mean. There's nothing to take offense over. It was meaningless.
A pointless song and dance. Like a bee flying in circles. Cars stuck in traffic. Cats chasing yarn." She smiled. Touched his hand again.
"By your definition, everything is meaningless. There's no point to anything. Life is one big pointless…uh,
theatrical spectacle." He thought about pulling his hand away from her, but left it. He liked the way her skin felt.
"Everything is either meaningless or profound? Is that what you're saying?"
"That's what you're saying. Holding my hand is like a cat chasing its tail. Not that I agree with that. I'm just saying, that's what you think."
"I'll miss this," she said.
"Miss what?"
"Talking with you. You don't know half of what you say." She smiled.
"Why did you bring me here to break up, anyways?"
"I'm sorry. I wasn't planning to. I guess it's an odd place to end things." She blushed.
"Hmmm." He wondered if this was really the last time they'd see each other or if she'd change her mind.
Call him up tomorrow night; pick up where they left off. Maybe she was going through something and needed
space. He'd wait for her, however long she needed. He didn't want anybody but her.
She said, "You ever think about how much reality we're disconnected from? That all the meaning
we have and feel are symbols of symbols of symbols. And the honest blunt truth of things
is buried way past our awareness. Take this burger for example." She picked up the remaining
bits of Paul's hamburger. "Not only am I unaware of the fact that this was once a cow…not only
do I have no idea what it feels like to kill my own food, but I'm sitting here in this absurd
manmade building having abstract conversations with you, looking at weird paintings on the wall.
Meanwhile this living creature sacrificed its life so that I can continue to live. What's worse
is that I didn't need it to die in order to live. There are plenty of other foods I could've eaten."
"You sound like a vegan."
"I'm not a vegan."
"You sure sound like one." He sighed. "I don't want this to end. Why do you have to go?"
"Paul. I wish you all the best in your life. I think you're an amazing person. I enjoyed getting to know you."
"Thanks." He ate one of her fries. There was something unappealing about eating cold fries. He reached down and ate another.
She left. He finished his orange soda; wondered what drink to get next.
Aaron Carnes Web Site
Email: Aaron Carnes
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