The Existential Woman page 10

"Try!" Shanna heard a voice in her head. It kept repeating that one word. Most of her Wednesday had been spent on the same old typical daily tasks that she had grown comfortable with. Nothing new. Nothing exciting. Nothing especially impressive or remarkable. She had put on an old movie. One that she had watched several times already. She just couldn't get bored with that one. It was so well done. It was like listening to one of her favorite songs. "Try!" the voice demanded again. She took a deep breath and got out of the big leather chair on wheels in front of the big wooden desk.

"Try?" she said outloud, questioning the meaning. "Try what?" she asked, but she knew the answer. "I don't want to try," she whined. She swept and mopped the floor again because Selia was giving her a dirty look about the crumbs piling up around her cat dish. Shanna threw the fried fish wrapped in aluminum foil into the garbage. It had been sitting in the refrigerator for about a week and she had eaten most of the fried filets with homemade tartar sauce. "Rock fish was better than I thought," she grumbled to herself feeling a tinge of guilt as she threw the last two pieces in the trash. Then she threw a bowl of mushy canned cat food into the garbage also. Selia had left the filled bowl there for the roaches to feast on and Shanna was aware that Selia was not going to eat it.

"Try!" the voice continue to badger her mind. Shanna couldn't ignore it, but she did her best to. She had made some calls and done some research learning the current prices of cell phone service. She'd seen the payment for her car insurance processed, and felt relieved that although she was worried about her empty pockets, at least the derilicts of the world couldn't destroy her just for owning a vehicle. "Hahahhahahahaha!" she laughed in a passionate storm of feeling victorious. "You can total my van, but I won't be left with nothing this time, you evil schemers!" Then she sat down for a moment to mourn the loss of her Honda CRV and her beloved PT Cruiser. She didn't cry, but she sighed a deep, regretful sigh. "It was the best I could do," she reminded herself.

The hours passed and she spent most of them in front of the laptop printing out old poems and putting the pages in folders. She didn't want to feel threatened by the Internet Hackers or Greedy Site owners that she wouldn't be allowed access to these pieces, considering all the contributions she had so generously shared. The printed pages were just like the insurance for her van. Another victorious slap to the faces of those who wanted to hurt her. "I don't need your overpriced worthless outdated cell phones!" she hollard at the stark grey walls. "I don't need some elitist Iphone that makes me feel stupid!"

Yet, she jumped into her van and went to the nearby Target store where she asked a friendly clerk if they stocked flip phones. He guided her to the display where several brands were stocked. He recommended Consumer Cellular, but Shanna shared a story of how that company had disappointed her. She chose another company and the clerk understood why. She purchased the new flip phone feeling satisfied that she had made ammends with the Karma goddess for having destroyed her last flip phone in a Bipolar rage that boiled from an exhaustive attempt at a a vacation a few months previous. She took the plastic bag containing her purchase and walked out of the store happily to her van. Then she drove back to the condo.

When Norman got back home, it was nearing 7 p.m. He fried up some hamburgers and seemed content to sit at the desk munching on that and some tater tots. He invited her to eat, and she accepted the invitation after he was halfway through his meal. She hadn't had tater tots in a long time and they tasted fresh and crispy, an enjoyable treat especially dipped in her mayo-ketchup sauce.

They didn't speak. They didn't mention their earlier argument. He watched a show, and she ate in silence. When she was done eating, she walked into the bedroom and plopped onto her bed hoping she would pass out into a deep sleep. Selia came into the bedroom and sat on top of her boombox staring at her.

"Why don't you go sing a song for Karaoke?" Selia whispered to her.

Shanna considered what she could wear and remembered she hadnt' worn her black heels or her velvet skirt yet. She smiled at Selia, pet her neck, and nodded in agreement. She jumped out of her bed and got dressed quickly, excited at the idea and thinking about a song that her current voice could carry.

Norman noticed that she was getting dressed to go somewhere, but he didn't ask her any questions. When she was done getting dressed, she turned to him and said, "I'm going to Karaoke."

He still didn't say anything, but she could tell he didn't disapprove, nor did he have anything nice to say about her choice of wardrobe. She rushed out.

Before she turned the radio on, she remembered Night Rider's song "Sister Christian" and the lyrics filled her with a sense of doom and gloom. She was tempted to turn back around and forget karaoke. She turned the radio on instead and a fresh song changed her mind and mood and she continued heading toward the karaoke bar.

She parked among the other cars parked at that plaza, mostly nice new cars, shiny and washed. Nothing stood out more than her van, large and shoddily painted. Still, she was proud of the improvements that had been made. She locked the doors of the van and walked into the bar.

It wasn't packed but there were enough people there to make it look alive. The Karaoke DJ hadn't begun yet. Shanna knew the typical patronizing thing to do was order a drink. She was going to sit in the corner to avoid the moment for as long as possible, but for some reason she sat at the bar and the bartender came to her ready to fulfill a drink order.

Shanna smiled hopefully, anxiously and secretly praying that this new bartender would appreciate her sense of humor.

"I'll have a Virgin Rum and Coke," she told the bartender with an insecure smile.

The bartender caught the joke and smiled back at Shanna, then brought her a cup of Coca Cola in ice.

"Thank you," Shanna said sincerely, and sipped the beverage not for pleasure or thirst, but for propriety as she wondered how long it would be before the singers took the karaoke stage.