Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Welcome to Three Word Wednesday. Each week, I will post three (or more) random words. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write something using all of those words. It can be a few lines, a story, a poem, anything. I'll also attempt to write something using the same three words.
Leave a comment if you participate. Many fun and interesting people might visit your blog.
This week's words are:
Dyersville Tax Service & Travel Agency is located in a tiny office in the rear of the local dry cleaners. Perhaps that should have been my first sign. Peering thru the window before I entered, I saw a counter. Beyond that sat a man with his head resting on a desk.
As I opened the door, a bell dinged, and the man raised his head and looked in my direction. He was middle-aged, with dark, curly hair.
"M-may I help you, s-sir?" he asked, trying to appear as if he had not been asleep.
"I'm looking to book a vacation," I paused, as I had to move over to the side so that the door would have room to close. "To Hawaii." I said it almost inquisitively, as if I wasn't sure if he'd ever heard of the state.
"A wonderful choice, sir," he responded, appearing to become more awake with each passing second. "And you can leave your lava lamps at home."
He looked at me with a goofy teeth-baring grin and paused, as if waiting for a reaction. When none came, he continued, "Uh, please have a seat, won't you."
I looked around to find only a single metal stool. As I planted myself there, the man turned towards his computer. That's when I heard the old, familiar sounds of dial-up internet.
You've got to be kidding me, I thought to myself. Already I was beginning to question my decision to come here. It had seemed like such a noble gesture in theory, going out of my way to support a small business.
Finally, the screeching of the connection process was over. I tried to relax. Maybe this won't be so bad, I thought. Besides, isn't this one of the reasons I had moved to a small town, for the slower pace?
"Never booked a trip to Hawaii before," he said it almost excitedly, as if he were the traveler instead of me.
What was I thinking? I should have booked this trip online. I began to think of ways to get out of this. I wasn't bold enough to just walk out and say I'd changed my mind. No, there had to be a good excuse. Besides, how many trips a year could this guy possibly book? Ten, twelve, tops? I felt sorry for him, and somehow obligated now.
I know. Whatever price he quotes, I'll just say it's too expensive. That's easy enough, right? But what if it's really cheap?
As I continued thinking, my gaze shifted upward to where an old two-blade ceiling fan twisted slowly, looking as if it might stop at any moment. Maybe it will fall and land on him. Then I'll leap over the counter to save his life, and any thoughts about some Hawaii trip would be completely forgotten. Problem solved.
I watched the fan, hoping against hope. Maybe I can will it to fall, like those mind over matter people. If they can move inanimate objects, why can't I? I just have to concentrate, that's all.
As I focused on the ceiling fan, my impromptu session of What Would Criss Angel Do was ended by an electronic beeping sound. Jolted back to reality, I looked down to see the man fiddling with something on his side.
What's that? A pager? And a neon green one at that. No. It can't possibly be! A pager and dial-up internet? I've got to get out of here. I'll just leave. Yes, that's it. I'll stand up, and I won't say anything, and I'll walk out the door, and I'll never see him again, and that'll be that.
Come on! Go!
But my body wasn't moving.
"It won't be long now," he said as he shot a reassuring smile my way before returning his attention to what I was certain was an Apple IIe.
If only I could control-open-apple-reset my day.
"Now the court square's just a set of streets that the people go around but they seldom think, about the little man that built this town before the big money shut 'em down..."