The Written Word, Features, Analyzing Albert

Analyzing Albert Part 4.5

0 Comments 07 October 2011



Laundromats have a stale yellow light that reminds me of urine. The people are lively though. At all hours of the day and night too. Sometimes the stores don’t even have employees. The doors have an automatic lock that opens every morning at 6 and closes every night at 11. If you’re running errands while your cloths are drying and run a little late…sorry. You’re fucked. No last employee to plead your case with. No one to show a unique display of compassion. Not a hint of human emotion. I think its genius.

They throw up on each other though, and call people bad names. Not in so many words of course but you get what I mean. The dynamic was very different from the little café across the street. There were no rules here and people don’t give a shit how they act. I saw grey suit girl there one day. She looked different without the suit. When she walked by she didn’t say a word. At least she smiled at me at the cafe before. But it wasn’t just her. I saw the kid I buy cigarettes from three times a week. I say hi to him every time I go in. We make small talk, really shoot the shit. He didn’t say a word when I saw him.

I feel bad for them. I really do. But imagine what they must think of me! Every time another person with a completely different look. At least I was being honest with everybody.


Then the day came when Maury Povich and gravity ruined my life. I was bored. It was a Tuesday and windy and I was feeling particularly uninspired. I started to get that headache you get after you haven’t left the house in days and all you’ve been breathing has been stale air. I figured it was time for a temporary departure.

As I walked through the baggage claim area I heard Maury’s voice bark from the TV above. This particular show was about young professionals that have IBS and the particular problems encountered in the workplace. As I began to look up I tripped on the leg of a bench and gravity got the better of me. The fall was hardly graceful. On the way down I managed to knock over two women and man and squish a 4 year old.  I dragged myself up as quickly as possible and as chaos ensued I grabbed the first case I could and scurried away.

My normal ride home was not filled with the sweet sounds of oldies. I couldn’t listen to anything. All I did was replay that scene in my head over and over again. The faces, the stares, the judgements, that stupid kid, fucking Maury Povich! It was all too painful to think about but I couldn’t stop. This was the first time the darkness crept into my life since I quit the liquor store.

I was almost in tears when I entered my driveway and almost forgot the suitcase when I got out of the car. To be honest it was the furthest thing from my mind. I was halfway to the door before I remembered and had to turn back to retrieve the case. When I got inside I didn’t want to open it. I simply wasn’t in the mood. All I wanted to do was lie in bed and try to fall asleep. Always in search of that temporary departure.

- who has written 512 posts on The Shade.

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