an error in judgment

image: Joseph Cornell
August, 2005
A succession of strange events: After ten minutes in line for security and the battery on my IPOD giving out before I was even in the waiting room, a woman checked my boarding pass and handed me a red ticket. “You’ve been selected for additional screening today ma’am. Please replace the subtle, unsuspecting, grey bin which the other passengers are enjoying, with a bright red, glow-in-the dark bin so everyone knows you’re a potential terrorist.” So I did. “Now stand in the HOLDING CELL to your left. Stand there in the 5’ by 5’ square surrounded by glass panels and yellow tape and proceed to be on display for an undetermined period of time until another disgruntled employee with a Dorothy Hamill haircut lets you out of the ‘Box of Evil.’” So I did. Then the disgruntled employee with the bad haircut put me in another Box of Evil and frisked me while her friend swabbed my purse looking for bomb residue… while staring at me in the Box of Evil. The Box of Evil seemed to rub off on me, and I'm now agitated. I'm thinking, “YOU go stand in the Box of Evil you crazy ice skating fanatic ass face!” Then she told me to have nice day and I got on a plane destined for Sacramento.
The next day my mom and I decided to take a walk. Within a couple of blocks of reaching our house, a small yellow cat yelped out for our attention. Against my mother’s persistent advisement to NOT touch the cat, I pet the cat. It was a sad cat. “It’ll follow you home! Don’t do it!” I pet the cat and it followed me home. Mom says ” This is your fault. Now it’s lost. It’ll probably die.” Oh man, the cat’s going to die. Sad cat. Very sad cat. I hoisted Sad Cat into my old Toyota and drove it back to the place I found it. These stories for some reason or another seem to go together.