Boobs II

We have stopped somewhere in the dessert that with or without greenery remains the American desert, in Oregon, in southern California, in Mississippi, it doesn’t matter.  We have made a curb our coffee shop, Zeus, the other gods, all look on, Kay drinks something other than coffee refusing me that need to find my reflection in others that thing that lets me not hate them, she does this intentionally, but I am strong, I can look past it for now.

I have been saying ‘boss’ like as in boss Tanaka.  “boss” it sounds almost like bus, there is accent, I am hunting the nuance, calling it out of the world of my own mind, summoning it up like we have been for all the worlds laughter.

“I mean this could be anywhere” she says.  I nod.  I grab her shoulder and say Boss like a question like I am urging my boss to consider something, imploringly, Boss.  She always knows this is a single player game and this is also a request for her to sit down and watch without comment, observe the greater thing my gut says is dissolving into a recognizable artifact of my journey.

“boss”

It’s the boss without a question mark.  The word, his title, is the question, it’s not like, boss let’s kill them, it’s more like, Boss are you sure?

“it rules out your wanting them to be part of you in a biological way, it rules out you wanting tits like you may want better eye sight or to break three hundred on bench.” She says, sipping the not-coffee.  “but you think you should be able to buy them, to own them, not to eat but to have on a shelf to use like paper towels or coffee, it’s a consumable, you see it that way, that’s why you get five, unlike a car say where you might sell your car to get a different one but you will only have one, the car is transportation, 5 means they get used up”

I think about what she tells me.  My mouth mimes Boss over and over.  No one has the balls to park in the spot where we are sitting, someone may someday.

“you didn’t buy women” she says.

“I love tits” I tell my sister.  “I love them so much”

She smiles.  Sometimes she is gentle. This is one of those times.  One of the times when my sister does not call me to the bonfire with chains, accusing my darkness, shackling the beast, the destroyer of worlds that lives in me though, with any breath I might kill everything not dead already.  This must be the difference between good and evil, it has to be, otherwise what is the point. 

Talk to me about evolution after a road trip, after the dynamic of ownership behavior is cooly settled into boss and not-boss. Even if they are your keys but you are not driving, tell me how much you feel in possesion of your vehicle when someone else is driving it, even if you are there in the passenger seat, your left hand 1' 9" from the ignition. tell me about truth and right and wrong and frienship and how no one will leave you and about agreements and trust and fear after, after, fuck, I forgot what I was trying to say. I stop moving my lips.

“not your boobs though sis, sorry but I have to draw the line somewhere” I say as we stand, she taking my lead.  I have the keys, it’s the only reason. 

She laughs, “thank god for that” she says. 

“boss, boss, boss, boss, boss” I shout, shaking with my fists, rigid and perpendicular in a cornholio’esq fashion, a TP for my bunghole jibe. 

In the jeep she asks where we are going.