What Happened

I worked for Frito Lay, so I was tired. The first year was brutal. I drove about a thousand miles a week and averaged twelve hours a day through the week and that still didn’t do it. I’d be out there on Saturdays, but that’s okay. It was a small town and half of it, a military base I was not allowed to go on, so there was nothing to do anyway.

I was 25 and it was Friday night. I’d thought about going out, but fuck it. I was too tired and there was no one very compelling in the town anyway. Oh, I had men. I had dates and stuff, but I had to import them from the city for the most part. I had to drive to the city snag some guy and lure him to the country. Not hard. It wasn’t hard to do, but it took more time and energy than I’d had recently so I was on my own.

I didn’t mind it. I wasn’t really lonely. Sort of lonely, but that’s not really lonely. If I were bothered, I’d have done something about it, but I wasn’t bothered. I was tired, that’s what I was. I was really freakin’ tired so I turned on the TV.

I lived in a small town, population about 10, on the outskirts of a small town of about 30,000 and you needed a satellite dish if you want to watch TV. I didn’t have a satellite dish, but I didn’t care because I grew up without a TV and never acquired much of a TV habit anyway, but I did get one channel… PBS.

So I turned on PBS. The TV was in the bedroom and “The Life of Little Mike” was on. It was a documentary about a midget. They were profiling him. They filmed him during an average day, documenting his struggles. They asked him what term he preferred to describe his condition. Midget? Little Person? It was a poignant piece. It was very well done. It’ did what it was supposed to do. It gave me a glimpse into this man’s life and evoked a fair amount of emotion.

Sensitized now, I started thinking the way I do. I started wondering if there was something I could or should do for Little Mike or another person like him. I don’t know. I was moved by the program. It was pretty stark, really. Little Mike was a serious character. He took things very seriously and I crinkled my forehead as I watched, sort of amazed at what I was seeing. I kind of wished I could call him up and have a chat, and that’ was the last thing I thought before I realized I was passing out even though it was only seven thirty. I clicked off the TV and fell asleep.

When I woke up there was someone in bed with me.

To be continued.

skip to part two…