Oh, mercy mercy me.
Goddess was taking me for a walk, her leash dragging behind her as she meandered around half a block behind me. We were in compliance with the twenty seven thousand laws that have been enacted in the last few months ... as we stopped at every stop sign which the city of Tybee Island has purchased from every other city that has gone out of business ... anyway ... we were doing what we normally do ... I'd walk in front of the Goddess and she will wait until I'm half a block away and then she runs past me then turns to look to see if I'm coming.
So I walk, then stop and turn around to check on her ... and there is Shirley holding the other end of Goddess's leash walking towards me with the consternating look of a woman running for Mayor.
"Oh shit," I mutter. "I'm in trouble ... again."
"She's going to get hit by a car," Shirley scolds handing me the leash
"What?" I say. "She has a lease on and is following the Tybee Island leash law ... Book 27, section 128, line 486 of the Tybee code"
Shirley looks at me as though I'm an idiot ... which is one of the characteristics of running for Mayor.
"You have to hold the other end," she explains from on high.
(Shirley is actually shorter than I am but when she gets on to me ... which is happening with increasing frequency ... she seems to tower above me ... which is another characteristic of running for Mayor ... I can't explain it ... I skipped Physics in High School.)
She puts the other end of the leash on my hand. Goddess licks her butt. We all make our way to the end of the sad little holy dock. Shirley sits down in the most regal of ways so after kneeling and bowing I do the same.
Puffs of white smoke appear out of nowhere.
Choirs of angels sing.
Goddess continues licking her butt.
"How you doing?" she asks.
I shrug my shoulders.
"You still in love?"
I contemplate this. What is she asking? With the past? No. Definitely not. She left. I've learned to live with being left. It's OK. Shit happens.
"The fact of the matter Shirley," I say, " is that I'm in love. I'm not quite sure of this map that I'm following ... I take a left up here somewhere (I rarely go to the right) ... after that I have no clue ... but I'm good ... I know what I'm leaving ... and what has left me ... and where I'm going, er ... I'm just not quite sure how I'm getting there yet."
Shirley looks at her watch.
"I have to go," she apologizes. "There is a fundraiser that I have to be at."
Goddess continues licking her butt.
I love Shirley. I support her being Mayor of Tybee Island on the premise of reducing the number of Stop Signs on the island. And I understand politics. It's all about money. People believe they can make it all better and learn ... it takes money.
So I grab the end of the leash and Goddess drags me home.
"Mercy Mercy me," I tell her. "Things ain't what they used to be ... Thank God!"
Then Shirley blows one last puff of smoke.
And holiness descends on the words.
