The Disillusionists. cont'd...

I remember playing pool with May at a tittie bar about five years ago. She left me hung up on the top rail on the break and then cleared the table on her next turn. I stood there like a fuckin' monkey in a banana factory. The next game I did a little better, but I think she was just takin' it easy on me. I tried to cover my embarrassment with stupid lines like, "Next you'll want me to wallpaper your kitchen," or, "Hey lady, where'd ya get the man hands?" Just as she was lining up the eight-ball I said, "Did you just fart?"

She just looked up at me and sighed, "You don't have to act like an idiot all the time you know."

Now she was explaining how she had met her filmaking buddies, her words blending perfectly with the recalled images in my head - "You know... parties, somehow you keep meeting the same people so evidently you have something in common."

"Yeah, like crack addiction." May stared ahead and had the same expression she had way back at the pool table. I actually waited for her to say the same thing again...

"Look," she said instead, "this movie is going to change your life."

"In what way?"

"In which way?" She paused again, "In all ways. You will always be different after this."

"I can't wait."

"Seriously."

"No it's good. I believe you."

We drove for a while. May went on with some story about how she and her genius boyfriend were coming out of a restaurant and she saw a bug and she was all like, ew, and he was all didn't know what there was to be squeemish about because cockroaches were pre-historic and would outlast humanity and should be revered as the master race and how we are speeding up this process by using anti-bacterial soap and therefore creating super-strains of bacteria which the cockroaches eat and gain super-powers so I said something like how estrogen from the pill in the water table is making men all girlie-girl and she slapped my knee and said she knew we would all get along. I was beginning to feel like Boo the Bear, kinda trapped... Outside the car a light drizzle fell. The water ran down the outside of the glass and played with my reflection. Bending it as the streetlights made more patterns and even May seemed to move at a different speed. Slower, on a different frequency than the rest of the world. Outside, the people flew by.