10-19-2020, 09:12 AM
1/2/2019: Part 5 -- A Rather Bizarre Dinner
Darkness has settled in, the tables are candlelit, dinner is announced. For once I go through the line early and sit down to eat while LCF is back at the room cleaning up. Paula sits down next to me and we chat while we eat. She's loopier than usual, no doubt tired and way overdue for a decent meal.
She's concerned about a blister that's formed on the bottom of her big toe. I wonder if wearing running shoes while walking caused it. It's a significant issue for her; she's been trying to train for a triathlon coming soon after this trip. She has her foot up in her lap, inspecting the blister. And then all of a sudden she picks up her fork and brings it to bear on her foot. In the dark, I can't see what she's doing. But she soon puts the fork back on the table and says matter-of-factly, "There, I popped it," to be followed almost immediately by, "Why did I do that? That was a stupid thing to do. I don't know why I did that." She repeats that a couple more times, puzzled at her impulsive action. It's certainly not a smart thing to do to a foot blister, especially where we're at.
Anyway, we continue to chat and eat, and I don't remember what we're eating. But eventually LCF sits down opposite me at the table, only to promptly get back up. "I'll be right back," she says. "I forgot to get a fork."
That's when Paula says it. "Oh, you can have mine. I haven't used it."
Now, it's important to remember how dark it is. I can't see the tabletop in front of Paula. And maybe she does have two forks. But there's no good reason that she would. Paula just isn't thinking very straight, and I'm not much better. Because as I'm slowly assessing the situation, putting two and two together, it becomes too late. LCF has taken Paula's fork and is eating with it. So I stay quiet on the matter. What could I possibly say at this point? Maybe I'm hallucinating everything. I don't know. So I don't say a word. Not then, not ever.
As we're finishing up dinner, Mohsin stops by. He tells me that later tonight he'll be taking a group on a night walk. They'll be going into a swamp. Would I like to come along?
Would I like to come along? Into a swamp? In the night? After all we've done today? I wouldn't miss it for anything.
After dinner, I take a shower. I do so mostly to wash my clothes, which I wear. We're always struggling to have clothes that don't smell too bad. So I'm in the shower, washing up some. And I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing this for. Because I'm about to go into a swamp.
Darkness has settled in, the tables are candlelit, dinner is announced. For once I go through the line early and sit down to eat while LCF is back at the room cleaning up. Paula sits down next to me and we chat while we eat. She's loopier than usual, no doubt tired and way overdue for a decent meal.
She's concerned about a blister that's formed on the bottom of her big toe. I wonder if wearing running shoes while walking caused it. It's a significant issue for her; she's been trying to train for a triathlon coming soon after this trip. She has her foot up in her lap, inspecting the blister. And then all of a sudden she picks up her fork and brings it to bear on her foot. In the dark, I can't see what she's doing. But she soon puts the fork back on the table and says matter-of-factly, "There, I popped it," to be followed almost immediately by, "Why did I do that? That was a stupid thing to do. I don't know why I did that." She repeats that a couple more times, puzzled at her impulsive action. It's certainly not a smart thing to do to a foot blister, especially where we're at.
Anyway, we continue to chat and eat, and I don't remember what we're eating. But eventually LCF sits down opposite me at the table, only to promptly get back up. "I'll be right back," she says. "I forgot to get a fork."
That's when Paula says it. "Oh, you can have mine. I haven't used it."
Now, it's important to remember how dark it is. I can't see the tabletop in front of Paula. And maybe she does have two forks. But there's no good reason that she would. Paula just isn't thinking very straight, and I'm not much better. Because as I'm slowly assessing the situation, putting two and two together, it becomes too late. LCF has taken Paula's fork and is eating with it. So I stay quiet on the matter. What could I possibly say at this point? Maybe I'm hallucinating everything. I don't know. So I don't say a word. Not then, not ever.
As we're finishing up dinner, Mohsin stops by. He tells me that later tonight he'll be taking a group on a night walk. They'll be going into a swamp. Would I like to come along?
Would I like to come along? Into a swamp? In the night? After all we've done today? I wouldn't miss it for anything.
After dinner, I take a shower. I do so mostly to wash my clothes, which I wear. We're always struggling to have clothes that don't smell too bad. So I'm in the shower, washing up some. And I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing this for. Because I'm about to go into a swamp.