here hare here.

by dorarandom

in the town where i first went to college—which was also the town where i met the poet who understood the price of art—which was also, believe it or not, the town where westinghouse set up the first alternating current power system—(a fact which i learned from reading up on the history of the electric chair)—anyway, in this town, there was a kind of sad kind of rural type gas station that had a store that went with it. a very sad type of old rural lady was often working there, and for a long time there was a sign on the counter—(constructed of looseleaf notebook paper)—that said: “Don’t talk to me. I just had throat surgery.”

this sign was like the 8th wonder of the world to me and i am often remembering it. pretty much every time someone is talking to me and i wish they weren’t, which is pretty often. i haven’t had throat surgery though. and i can’t make a sign that says: “Don’t talk to me. The things you say to me are stupid.” that would be incredibly impolite and unlike me. (and probably people would think i was kidding and would talk to me anyway.) (maybe “Please don’t tell me about your hot tub” would be permissible?)

there was a girl who worked at the last place where i was working who i used to spend a lot of time brooding about. i couldn’t figure her out. she seemed friendly and well-disposed enough, but she was always doing apparently malevolent things. and somehow i always got in trouble because she didn’t do her work. my working hypothesis was that this girl was a machiavellian genius. but one day she and the lawyer she assisted tried to convince me that “hare” was the word for a male rabbit. and i was like, ‘no, it’s definitely a different animal. i mean, i think there may be some overlap between species that are called “rabbits” and “hares” that confuses the technical distinction, whatever it is—i mean assuming there is one—are you on wikipedia?’ and i think at that moment they realized they hated me and i realized i hated them and also they were stupid. i had what i believe these days is called “an aha moment.” (‘she’s not machiavellian! she’s POWERFULLY STUPID! mystery solved.’)