Yogi came down the street taking a bite out of a sandwich. I said, hey, this is the third time this week. He said it was the first ham and pickle he’d had in months. I said I mean our running into one another like this. Oh, he said. Actually, he did have to run –he had to pick up his kids from their swimming lessons.
I ducked into a café –the same one where Yogi got his sandwich. The TV was on: a cartoon bird was giving instructions for building a nest without having to put out a lot of effort. It said if you put it to them as a kind of game you can put your chicks to work before they even hatch. An anonymous narrator said let’s put it to the test and if it doesn’t work, we can always put your eggs in an omelette. A woman at the counter laughed.
We got into a conversation about how something that some people find funny might not be funny to everyone. She said some people have no sense of humour. I said it also depends on the mood. What makes you laugh one day might not seem funny the next. She said, well if you put it that way. She said what got her was the way they beat the word “put” to death. She imagined a comedy sketch where a guy keeps shouting the word “put” over and over at a guy chained to a wall. A third guy comes in and wants to know what’s going on. The first guy says you told me to put him to death and that’s what I’m bloody well doing. I nodded.
Yogi came back and brought his kids in with him. He bought them sodas and asked me if I’d give him a ride to the airport. I said yeah, but first I had to run home and get my car. I was halfway there when I remembered I’d left my car at work. And my phone was on my nightstand. I had to decide –should I continue on home and call Yogi and tell him he better find another ride or run to where I was pretty sure the car was? Either way I was pretty sure I’d be cutting it close –though he hadn’t said what time his flight left.
I ran to the car, kicking myself all the way, but I made it. Yogi said I could come with them as a way to thank me for the ride. I said alright. I was too tired to drive home anyway. –Plus I’d never been in a private plane with its own desks and filing cabinets. Did all this stuff stay put when the plane took off? I said I hope you know how to fly this crate.
I watched cartoons with the kids while he went about his business: A frantic bird sang out instructions. I say “sang” because that’s what people say birds do, but it was more a kind of warning in sped-up language. I had no idea what it was about. I looked at the kids. They said prepare for final descent. I said so where is it we’re going?
DoubleSpeak 