Fibbing flyer

Posted: August 21, 2010 in Uncategorized
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Image by Flying Jenny via Flickr

This was possibly only the third time I saw Jay. He seemed even larger this time. I couldn’t look at his body without a deep inside the gut aversion. His very loose clothes didn’t conceal  the cascading rolls that hung down the thighs, down the arms , down the belly. Oddly enough, his hands were nearly slim. His face looks good. He yawns a lot and holds onto to my front counter. I wonder if he would fall over, if he let go of it. That wouldn’t be cool. I couldn’t pick him up. Not even roll him over. So I stand alongside of him: we talk over his flesh . I avert my eyes so as not to stare at the rolls upon rolls, under rolls, around rolls . We discussed  prices , colors and designs as his yawning grows louder and more inevitable.  He pulls out his blackberry and shows me pictures of himself with the wife. They shoot his face with a small part of his chest. It makes him look small , handsome. He knows it. Smiles sheepishly at me. Now we share this fucked up lie. I say I love the flyer he smiles inside another yawn. Fuck, I can see he is pushing 500 lbs. Has to be.  He thanks me, not for my prices or my suggestions for his event, or for my contributions to his 50 member church – no alcohol allowed,  but for my collaboration, in the best second meaning of the word.  Oh, what  merry webs  we weave


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