Cat Calls?

I was walking to the Chillout cafe just now, my internet point here in Dublin, when a small sedan hatchback about the size of a mini wizzed by on the edge of Essex Quay, and a blonde that I barely glimpsed (pink top? Maybe a v-neck sweater? Sunglasses?) in the driver seat called out to me as it passed. The words were muffled by the wind and city noise, and distorted by the doppler effect, but I caught the familiar phrase all the same. "Where have you been all my life?!"

I was half tempted to spin in my tracks and wander back, as the car was pulling up to a conveniently red stop light and call out "Right here, what kept you?!"

But it I didn't. I crossed the street and kept walking towards my destination. It did make me smile though, in an odd, disquieting sort of way.

If I find her, when I find her, where will I have been all my life?

Will the answer I am able to give be sufficient, or will it leave me feeling hollow or ashamed?

From The Road. Reprinted with permission.

Sunday, April 24, 2005


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