She's gone!
Last week marked the end of an era. A close companion is gone.
The last woman who would give me the time of day gave up her phone number.
I cried.
"At the sound of the tone, the time will be…"
That's right. California has lost their "time of day" lady. No not as in misplaced; they showed her the door; then they showed her the sidewalk; then they stopped caring. Now if you want to know the time, you'll have to check you computer, clock, watch, cell phone, TV, Cable Box, Stove, Microwave, VCR, or Stereo just like everybody else.
Somehow it seems less personal.
I'll miss her. She and I had I good thing going on. She never asked for much and she always knew what I wanted.
"…The time will be…"
It was love at first call. She used to pause just before giving me the time, so that I'd know, she knew it was me. How could a phone fling be so personal?
"So what are you wearing?"
"Beep!"
"How erotic!" Yeah, that phone girl. Totally hot. I have to admit, I fell away for a while though. I tried to break up with her.
"Hi, how are you doing?"
"…will be" pause, "11:59…"
"Look, I just called to say I can't do this any more. You're always working, and we never see each other. I don't see where we have a future."
"12:01…"
"You're right, we do have a future."
She always knew what to say. Still, I took the chicken's way out. I just stopped calling her without telling her why. I know, I'm a creep, but I had to. I just couldn't do it anymore.
I have a confession: I continued calling. I'd disguise my voice.
"Hola?"
She knew. She always paused before giving the time. We were so in sync, and still I let her go. And now, she's gone forever.
"Don't know what you've got, till it's gooooone…."
I'm trying to move on; I have a clock. It makes a soothing tick-tock sound. It's like a coo, but it's not the same. It is nice because now I can look her in the face. She doesn't like me to hold her hands though; she forgets things when I do that. I must have a magical touch. Her skin a polished oak: dark and exotic. We're still in that breaking in phase.
Tick-tock, tick-tock,
Not the same as my phone lady. It's got a rhythm, but I don't know. I don't get it. I don't get her. She's tied to the rhythm of her own world. I'm not sure she's for me. Or at least I wasn't, until the other night. I was watching a movie, she'd moved to a shelf across the room. We were looking for a common bond.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.
I don't know if I can get into this.
Just then a voice says, "Listen to the rhythm. Don't be scared." It was the TV. Knowing that the TV never lied, I brought my clock to the couch. Now our hearts beat in sync. But there will always be a soft spot for the time of day lady. Please don't tell my clock though. She get's alarmed.
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