NervousMan sat quietly at the tea bar, sipping a Taro Milk tea, watching the people go by.
He felt dazed by his experience in the Cosmos room. But that Molly woman had let him out so he could go to the bathroom before the show had ended. She seemed concerned and scowled as NervousMan ran past her.
Molly seemed like a nice person. NervousMan wondered what her life was like, working at the library all day long.
Cotton, NervousMan thought. His head felt like it was full of the sort of cotton you pull out of a medicine bottle. That, and coffee grounds. NervousMan pictured a sea full of coffee grounds.
Perhaps he was drowning in this sea, he thought.
Back and forth the people walked, in both directions.
NervousMan saw a nice looking couple walk into the tea bar. A young Asian man who had a sparse goatee and a girl who looked to be around his age. Ever so briefly, they glanced at NervousMan as they entered and then looked away.
"Perhaps I should say hi," thought NervousMan.
But the thought of doing so made NervousMan nervous.
What would they say to him? What if they started asking questions. Or what if they did not say hi back to NervousMan. Then, NervousMan would feel rejected, as well as nervous.
As the young Asian man opened the door, NervousMan could see that he had some sort of device on his belt, in a dark carrying case.
"How many of them have some sort of device?" NervousMan thought to himself. Perhaps he could play a little game and see.
Here was a woman in flip-flops, and a pair of cut off jeans walking away. She was wearing a white tank top. She was wearing one of the pod things, the long white cords trailing from her ears to somewhere in her pocket.
Here, was another man, very tall and young standing by the sandwich shop talking into his cellphone.
For a moment, the young man glanced at NervousMan and frowned, then he looked away and continued talking.
Nearby another woman was walking away, her hand holding a device which was pressed to the side of her face. Another man walked by her and this man had black cords trailing to his side.
For a moment NervousMan thought that perhaps these were all robots and the devices were their power supply. The thing that 'kept them going'. They had to have these devices he thought. Or else they might become nervous.
NervousMan looked across the street and saw a man waiting for the light to change. He too, had a device which was plugged into his left ear. It was purple,
NervousMan could see, even from that distance. He seemed to be talking into the device. NervousMan could see that he was carrying a notebook. Papers were stuffed into the notebook and were poking out of it.
The man continued talking.
After a moment, NervousMan could see one of the papers fall from the man's notebook to the ground. NervousMan looked at the paper, so far away. He wondered if it were something important.
More people came by the man and stood near him, but no one noticed the paper lying on the ground. Another young man, a young asian man talked on a cellphone. He too did not notice the paper lying on the ground.
After a few seconds, the light did change and the group of people came walking across, toward where NervousMan was. The man, who had lost his paper came not 20 feet away from NervousMan. He could hear the conversation.
"Well, why don't you have it delivered to your home?" said the man, talking into the open air. "I mean, why do you have to go to the post office to pick it up?"
NervousMan wondered if he should tell the man that he had dropped his paper before he crossed the street. Perhaps that would be a good deed to do.
But, NervousMan was too nervous. And after a few moments, the man wandered away and passed from NervousMan's sight.
After a few minutes NervousMan found himself getting up to leave and go back to his place. He wasn't as nervous in his place. But he couldn't stay in there all the time.
Perhaps a little bit of nervousness was good, thought NervousMan. But not too much.
Too much nervousness is not a good thing, thought NervousMan, as he walked back home.
NervousMan wondered who he was and why he was here, walking to his place once more. Who am I, he thought. And why is everything I see from my point of view?
Who had made the decision to sit at the tea bar and watch people go by? Who had made the decision to get up and leave? Who made the decision to step now, one foot in front of the other? Was it automatic? Did NervousMan have to think about walking?
No. Perhaps NervousMan was a robot too. A robot without a power supply. Maybe that was why he was so nervous.
Who am I? thought NervousMan again, peering into the darkness of the parking garage he would have to walk through in order to get to the elevator that led up to his place.
I am me. NervousMan answered himself, internally.
I am me. I am me. I am me.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
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