spending time with mother

a few hours ago, i was listening to the news while i ate some dinner. either Roz Abrams or one of the other evening broadcasters, perhaps Sade Baderinwa (i listen just to hear her say her name. it's salacious.), was talking about the recent Supreme Court Justice nomination. none of it was very entertaining or even insightful. they got to the part where they asked what i imagined to be some visibly annoyed or homeless new yorkers about their opinion on John Roberts. people droned about their worries, and valid ones, but i kind of tuned out. or maybe my mother's chomping drowned out the interview. either way, i managed to tune back in at the perfect moment:

"i hayuf aulwahs bean ah cuhnserfateve."

umm...ya think? where the hell did they find a hick in new york city? i wasn't watching, but i reckon it must have been the naked cowboy.

after dinner, i found out that my friend Lana had been evacuated from the mall in which she works because there were two bombs found. like, real live ones. they even had to detonate one! it was totally on the news and everything. naturally, recapping the incidents to my mother quickly went from concern to excitement to, hey, do you wanna go shopping?

(which, speaks volumes about like every major issue i have, but this is a funny post, so shut up and just let me tell the damn story.)

anyway, we get to Old Navy at the local dirt mall and i'm sitting on the bench of the dressing area waiting for her to show me some pants or something. her room was directly in front of where i was seated, so i could see her sneakered feet beneath the dressing room door. i could also see that she was trying on a pair of jeans WITH her sneakers on.

now, my mother is accident prone and very in-your-face about any kind of mishap she might encounter. seeing that sneaker trying to slip in through what couldn't have been a very wide denim leg, i instantly imagined her falling over. and not just falling clumsily onto the little bench they have in that little room. i envisioned her plowing into the suddenly cardboard-looking divider panels and creating a massive domino effect while narrating the entire decent with shrieks and flailing appendages. first her stall would buckle, her nylon pantied butt for all to see, and then the petite teenager in the next room would let out one of those classic shrills. i'm sure the event would be topped off with a third character emerging from yet a third dressing stall, holding her clothing in front of her wrinkly body. maybe the dude in charge of the fitting room would get on his little CIA-looking walkie-talkie contraption and call for back-up, which would be the entire store, and in lightning speed.

and i'm still sitting there, horrified, as the pressed wood creacks and price tags flutter to the floor.

the image was so real that i actually flinched and grimmaced as i sat. the patient boyfriend of the chick in the stall next to my mother totally saw me. he had been sitting next to me on the bench and i felt his sideways glance.

i stifled my smile by pretending to clear my throat and biting my lip, but since i'm not slick, this was not effective.

this is not the first time i've caught myself physically reacting to a little daydream that i've let get a little unruly.

and i STILL think i'm too cool for online dating.
boo-yeah.