In the mood
"If the mood strikes, I'll be at the bar at 10:30," Jackie said to Rhonda, who looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"I
know, I know," said Jackie, responding to Rhonda's very clear message.
They had known each other for 25 years and not much passed between them
that wasn't immediately understood by the other. This made Rhonda
feel claustrophobic and Jackie feel secure.
Rhonda at 5'9" was a stunner. Auburn hair, dramatically arched eyebrows, legs as long as the state of Florida.
Jackie
was tall too, but about twice as heavy as lithe Rhonda, and her hair
was a shorn mess. At least, as she often consoled herself, she had a
lovely egg-shaped head, slightly higher at the crown than at her
forehead. Any more dramatic and she would have been mistaken for an
alien. But then, what would be so bad about that?
Jackie waved goodbye to Rhonda at the door with her goofy face on -
squinting eyes, a little smile and silent jazz fingers waving as she
shut the door, almost tripping on a cord when she turned around to get
to the bathroom, fast. It's not that she didn't want to go to the bar.
It wasn't that she was of monstrous proportions compared to her friend.
It was that she had and unpredictable and urgent need to use the toilet
which ruined almost every social occasion. Rhonda knew and understood,
so although she often missed Jackie, she cut her best friend a lot of slack.
Jackie couldn't tell other people, so she lived with the fear of The
Pain and tried to plot her life so as never to be too far from a
private, or semi-private bathroom. If she had a big job interview or
important meeting, she avoided food until after it was over, trying to
stave off that horrible chemical reaction in which her tongue seemed to
trigger her intestines.
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