THBBM - The Incredible Lure of Crime

The Incredible Lure of Crime
Helene rinsed the cloth. "Much handled things are always soft."…
6-6

It's quarter to four in the hot sun of a state that has 90 degree air, and wild fires on the ground. You walk outside because you have to, you come back inside and your hair is wet.

Even if I were a skinny man, I would feel fat in this heat.

The younger, longhaired spirit in me wants to pack a surfboard onto the roof of his car, throw on ratty swim trunks, and play in the water until little wrinkles appear on his fingertips.

If you were arrested while your fingers were pruned from exposure to the water, do you think when they fingerprinted you, that you would have wrinkles on your prints as well? And if your lumpy paw prints were then entered into a computer as your identification, imagine the freedom that could come from that. The impressions would be nothing like your real fingerprints.

Think of it! You could commit any number of acts against justice and never be suspected, because the impressions you leave on the crime scene bear no resemblance to the lumpy, bumpy hands that the cops think belong to you....

I was at the bank today, dealing with bankers who keep my money locked up so that I can't see it. These places that allow me to have "standing" in the world by showing that I have certain amounts of wealth. They show it to my bill collectors, my tax man, and my landlord; but when it comes right down to it, I have never gotten a good look at any of this standing myself...

The man who helped me was named Chris. He wore a watch that had a regular watch hand, several digital watch faces, and probably a sundial on it. It was a cool watch, but it made me feel somehow superior to him.

My watch only tells the time once, and I am inclined to believe what it tells me.

Have you ever met someone during those brief encounters that make up our days -- someone that you don't get to know, someone whom you never really take the time to inquire much about -- but at the same time, you instantly get an impression and an opinion about them?

I sat at the far side of Chris' desk as he punched numbers into a computer, making my money dance.

I don't think, given the chance, that I would like Chris all that much.

Everything. Every pen. Every decoration. Every little trinket on Chris' desk was adorned with a small sticker. Each of the small stickers had a message on them. And the message on each sticker was always the same:

Chris.

Chris' stapler. Chris' tape dispenser. Seven ball point pens, all in a row - all belonging to Chris.

He printed something out and asked me to sign it. I put my name down. He excused himself and went to another part of the bank to do something else with my money that he could not do from his desk.

I was alone at the desk. Alone with Chris' stapler. Chris' tape dispenser, mouse pad, and paper clips. And as I sat there waiting I became captivated by a single, burning desire:

I wanted to steal one of Chris' pens.

I couldn't help it. Just the sheer feeling I got from the sight of everything on this man's desk being branded like so many cows standing in a field. This mini-Midas, sitting there at a desk in a bank in the middle of a city blanketed in unbearable heat. It just got under my skin and annoyed the hell out of me. I chuckled quietly, imagining myself as an office supply Robin Hood; fighting injustice by stealing paper clips from the nobles...

Somehow, through sheer force of will (and the realization that security cameras were positioned all around me...), I decided against breaking the law -- But man, I really wanted to steal a pen with a Chris sticker on it.

I wanted to leave the bank, knowing that soon after Chris would realize that something was out of balance with the world. I could see him going to one of the tellers and saying, "Did you take one of my pens? You know I have asked that you use your own pens. There are plenty of pens available, why do you feel the need to use mine! That's exactly why I have clearly marked mine with labels. Just like this one. See -- right here on the side. Chris' pen!"

It's been such a strange couple of days. I've been so locked into work -- all of these things being due, all of these meetings where people say my name and I have to answer questions and sound like I know what I am talking about.

Unfortunately for the young, longhaired spirit in me - I have to go to a wedding tonight, and then I have to come back to work tomorrow. The weather man says it's going to be a wonderful summers day. He means it will be hot as blazes, but we already know that - so he consoles the city with metaphors about what we will all be missing as we toil away in our skyscrapers....

Paradise is exactly like Where you are right now Only much much Better. -Laurie Anderson