"They don't check IDs," C. said when he asked me to meet him at the bar. He was 22. I wasn't far into 18. I didn't tell him I didn't drink and that I'd never been in a bar. I convince my friend S. to go with me. She isn't the type to get flustered …
Author: mapelba
I'm a writer, artist, teacher, mother, wife, daughter, friend, coffee addict... What else? A success, a failure, a mess, a fan, a hater of housework, a lover of dogs, a liberal, an obsessive, and a bunch of other things that probably would never occur to me. I reveal myself in more ways in my writings and art than in any list of adjectives. And whoever you are, I hope most of all that you are a reader.
Is that Dog a Gator or a Catfish?
"Look," Dad says. "I got the gator." I am six. I look out into the lake and see the alligator gliding its way toward the dock. Dad keeps reeling in his line. "We'll cut off its tail and paint it. You can take to school as a dog." "Dad, stop." I tug on his arm. …
Creeps at Gas Stations and Other Great Places
"What are you doing?" I ask. I look from L. to the two guys she's talking to. "They're Sigma Nus," L. answers. "They go to school near here." "Hi," they say. "Get in the car, L.," I say and put my wallet back in my purse. I've just paid for our gas. "What?" she asks. …
Continue reading Creeps at Gas Stations and Other Great Places
Waiting for…
* The ideas are there, but not the energy. Where did it all go?
Mental Break
* Sometimes one has no story to tell. Or perhaps has no energy to tell it. Or maybe it is time to be quiet.
False Starts and Unsatisfying Ends
The story starts like this. I go to a bar with friends. My boyfriend doesn't come with me because he never goes with me anywhere. He wants to see me only after 10pm, and I think he doesn't want to be seen with me. In the bar's courtyard two young men strike up a conversation …
Choosing Disappointment
It is Valentine's Day, and I do something I've never done for a guy before. I cook dinner. That morning I'd gone to a wedding in a friend's living room, but I'd picked out my silky blouse and skirt less for that important occasion and more with the tactophobe in mind. Maybe if I looked …
What does dancing get you?
"What time is your final exam?" my roommate asks, poking my shoulder. I open one eye. "Eight o'clock." "It's 8:30," she says. I fly out of my top bunk after three hours of sleep. I pull on a sweater that is on the floor. My hair is matted and tangled. Sheets lines etch my face. …
Are you with him?
"Would you like to dance?" he says. I'm sitting in a country/western bar with my best friend, S., and my dad's girlfriend. The man standing at our table is tall and lanky. He wears a plaid shirt, a wide silver belt buckle, dusty jeans, and cowboy boots. I assume he drives a pickup or a …
An Audience, a Prince, and a Dance Floor
"This song," the DJ says, "is dedicated to the lady in red in the middle of the dance floor." The Prince song begins, and I like Prince. I keep dancing. My friend C. laughs and points at me. "What?" I shout over the music. "Red!" she says and swings herself around to the beat. I …
