Tuesday, April 14, 2009


Not too long ago, less than 3 years ago, I find myself sitting in a waiting room. The office is underground because of the radiation machines. It is cold, as expected, and I am currently not in a good mood because it happens to also be 8 in the morning on a saturday. Despite the fact that I had to withdraw from second semester of my freshman year, I still have friends in Los Angeles and I would rather be hanging out with them than waiting in a cold dark room with old magazines, and older people. Regardless of my current state and my current predicament, I am in a cranky mood, too cranky now that I look back on that day.
I have been sitting for about fifteen minutes before I see someone out of the corner of my eye. The majority of the people I am in the room with have to be over 60 years old, at least, but I happen to see a very small boy sitting in the waiting room playing with those toys that are in all waiting rooms with the beads sliding around these pipe things (you know what I am talking about). Me and the boy had one of those moments when you accidentally make eye contact with someone then the people instantly look away. I looked away but the boy didnt. In fact he came up to me, which shocked me. If I had been on the outside looking in, I probably did not look like someone who wanted ANYONE to talk to him, let alone a kid. I started off being a little annoyed but then I came face to face with him. He didnt have any hair, was frail looking and teeth that most assuredly need braces later in his life. "What color are you?" He asked. I was perplexed and didnt know how to answer the question. "Excuse me?" Again he asked, "what color are you?" This time he held up an action figure of what I recall was the blue power ranger. Not the blue ranger from my generation but one of the newer ones I assumed. I looked down and in the boy's lap was a collection of power ranger toys, no pink or yellow ones of course. I gathered that he was asking me what color ranger I wanted to be, already having the assumption that I would want to play with him. I thought "what confidence this boy has." I later thought about this and realized that I was the only person in the room even remotely close to his age and he sure as hell didnt want to play a boys game with his mother. I had about another 20 minutes till my session started and I thought, "why not, who am I trying to impress here?"
As we start our mini adventure, which mostly involves throwing the toys across the room or at other toys set up, we start a debate about which generation of Power Rangers was the best (mine was of course the better generation, we had Jason, and Tommy for Christ sake.) He marvels at the fact that there were people way before the ones he knew that donned the multicolored uniforms. I dont even realize that 20 minutes passes, my name is called. I say goodbye to my new friend and hand him back his toy. As I lay on the table shirtless, I realize that the metal table isnt as cold as it usually is...


  1. It never is....

  2. I love the "thoughts" section, this made me cry. Really powerful stuff.