Monday, January 26, 2009

5 star service



Staring into a mirror, is a good exercise.

Revealing, surprising and humbling in a way.
It's being your own critic, and that is real life I guess.

Though I don't know if I would suggest doing it for too long, because over enough time it does a weird thing to you that I still can't work out whether or not is good.

I remember whilst working at the orphanage in Lucre, Peru, I used to do just the opposite. I discovered it as one does all the good stuff -by accident. When you don't see your own face for long enough (3 weeks is minimum) and then you do,

it feels like how it might feel doing it the first time,
or...
you know when people watch animals looking at themselves in the mirror
- it feels like how everyone wants the animals to feel:

oh, that's me! Oh I never knew... uh ah ew oh. (awe/wonder/self awarenes)

The longer you go without seeing your face the closer you get to that and well, the bigger the freak out I guess.

Yesterday I recorded myself alone in my car, talking about everything that mattered to me.
When you are alone you can say anything, you can talk to a stuffed elephant and tickle it's chin.

I sat down at M & A, ordered a pizza.
A simple pizza,
some water.

I was listening to the tape recording of me which sounded too much like Timothy Tredwell's rants for my liking.

pizza: average
service: excellant

The waiter fussed over me like it was his first day, or my last.

When he brought the bill he asked:

"are you some kind of journalist?"

"storyteller" I said, peaking at my reflection in the credit card machine as I entered my pin.

"Like a film maker of some kind"

"Something like that, or I guess I'm trying to be"

"oh, I thought you were a journalist, I was so worried you were here to crit the food."

4 comments:

  1. Jill!

    I miss all your stories. Have you stopped telling them or simply taken me off your mailing list?

    ReplyDelete
  2. there is a little boy, he loved his neightbour's chocolate peanut butter cookies.
    everyone he met, he told them about his neighbour's awesome chocolate peanut butter cookies.
    one day, someone asked him 'what's your neighbour's name?'
    and the little boy was silent,
    he didn't know the name behind the thing that he claimed to love so much.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I'm wondering what the relationship was like between this boy and his neighbour. Maybe I'm just too tired to come up with something plausible.

    ReplyDelete