Umm Said buying snow

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Umm Said buying snow

I see right through you. I tried hard to appear amused. We were seated in a high-backed booth in a Tulsa, Oklahoma cafe. I hardly knew this woman. I looked around the cafe, embarrassed by the turn in the conversation. There were five other people in the place. Three old guys with big guts and gray hair, in cowboy hats, were seated at one of the round tables in the center of the room. They were silent, looking down at their coffee cups. Behind the counter, a waitress in a black uniform with a white nametag pinned to her breast wiped a saucer with a dishrag. Behind her, the cook stood over the grill with his arms crossed, looking down at the metal surface as if something were cooking there, which nothing was. They were listening to us. They had been watching us and listening to us since we walked through the door. What kind of a thing is that to say? She pushed her hair back off her face. She had crimped blonde hair that fell over her forehead and cheeks. She was young, maybe twenty-five, twenty-six. I figured about ten years younger than me. I laughed, but it was an obviously uncomfortable laugh. I thought about just getting up and walking out. Unfortunately, there was no place to go. Meanwhile, the place was still as a closet. The cook was a big, heavy guy and you could hear him breathing. Here we were, talking amiably about things—and then suddenly: I have no character. Did I say something wrong? At the airport, I had joined her at her table because she was pretty and seemed nice, an ordinary attractive blonde with crimped hair, wearing bright sneakers and blue jeans and a green suede shirt with the top two buttons open, looking dreamily out the window at falling snow. I knew myself to be a good-looking man. I had been told so all my life by women and by men. I was tall and muscular, with a squarish, rugged-looking face. I knew I could walk up to most unattached women and start up a conversation and my advances would be welcome. As a salesman, my looks were my chief asset, and for that reason I kept myself in good shape, working out an hour every day with weights, jogging two miles every morning. From a distance, Jessie had seemed nice—attractive and nice. And she had acted that way too, sharing pleasant, friendly conversation with a stranger stuck in an airport during a snowstorm, though her eyes did seem to probe, and she had hesitated often before responding, as if feeling me out. Still, it had all been good until the character remark. There was something about her that I liked and I was hoping we might get back on that easy-going track. I sat quietly on my side of the table and watched her watching me. I look at you and I see someone without any real identity beyond what can be absorbed from others. Nor would anyone else in the room. The cook was looking at the back wall, and the three cowboys were still staring at their coffee. Too much snow. I looked toward the waitress. One of the cowboys looked up from his coffee and tipped his hat in my direction. My first thought was, given the rate at which he was drinking that coffee, waiting out the snowstorm might be the better bet. My second thought was that he really looked like an asshole in that cowboy hat. I felt as though Jessie and I were actors in an impromptu theatrical production, and everyone was waiting for the climax. In a few seconds the silence grew overwhelming. I thought about joining the three cowboys, but that would have been like walking off the stage and taking a seat in the audience. She turned to face me and stretched her legs out across the bench. She spoke as if I were still sitting across the table from her. Someone who crushed the character out of you. The cowboys, the waitress, and the cook all looked at Jessie for a moment and then turned and looked at me. It was beginning to occur to me that I had found myself a genuine crazy woman. I walked to her table with my eyes on her eyes and I leaned into the booth and put my lips close to her ear. Except for a single pickup truck, the parking lot was empty. A couple of inches of snow had accumulated already, erasing the yellow lines that divided the blacktop surface into parking spaces. As I crossed the lot to the truck, flakes of snow stuck to my hair. I jammed my hands deep in the pockets of my overcoat and waited by the passenger door of the pickup, where I had a clear view of the interior of the cafe. After only a minute or two, the cowboy said a few words to his buddies and then picked up his coat and came out to give me a ride. Jessie had turned around in the booth again, and was sipping her coffee as she stared out the side window toward a snow-covered field. I really appreciate this! I said. I never met her before in my life. I met her an hour ago in the airport coffee shop. I thought he might say more, but that turned out to be it. For the whole ride. When I got out at the airport, I thanked him again. Thanks again. He had sort of stopped midway in a nod and given me this strange look. I tried to laugh at myself—but someplace not very deep at all under the surface I was bothered. Luckily, the airline people were friendly. They arranged a decent motel room for me and even found me a ride—and I know I should have been more appreciative, but I was in a seriously sour mood. By the time I got to my motel room, I was wondering about the things Jessie had said to me, how much truth there was to them. But so what? I was a salesman. I sold financial software to mid-size businesses. I had probably just learned to pick up local speech characteristics as a way of relating to people. Why did it have to mean anything bigger than that? Still, by the time I got settled into my motel room, my sour mood had only deepened. My life was nothing if not predictable. I got up and pulled the curtains. I unwrapped a tumbler from the bathroom sink, filled it halfway, and slid my body down into the hot water. I was feeling better already. Life was just fine. I settled back in the tub and lifted the tumbler of whiskey to my lips, savoring the sharp aroma of the bourbon—and just as I was about to take my first sip, someone knocked at the door. I pulled myself up out of the tub, wrapped a motel towel around my waist, and went to the window, where I peeked out through the curtains. It was Jessie. She was standing in the snow without a jacket. I opened the door a crack. She moved closer to the door in order to get a better look. I opened the door and let her in. She came into the room and looked over the matching beds and then up at the fake oil paintings centered over each headboard. They were both seashore paintings, copies of some French painter, people in old-fashioned bathing suits carrying umbrellas, a crowded beach. Her eyes brightened. She pulled a crushed box of condoms out of the pocket of her jeans. She yanked the bottom of her shirt out of her jeans, undid the cuffs, and took it off. She took a strand of her hair between her thumb and forefinger. So is the color. No luster at all. But, for a significant amount of money and with bimonthly treatments, we get this: pretty, bright blonde hair. The stuff about my character was fading out of memory. I was beginning to concentrate on the fact that I had an attractive, entertaining woman in my motel room getting undressed for me. I reached across the space between us to touch them, letting the warm flesh rest in the palm of one hand while my thumb traced the circle of her nipple. Saline implants. She leaned forward and kissed me on the bridge of my nose. I should be attractive. Look at all the effort. I pulled her pants off the rest of the way and then climbed onto the bed with her. She kissed my chest, hungrily. I kissed her breasts. They felt great. They felt like real breasts. She pulled back the blankets and slid under. I joined her. She smiled revealing perfect teeth, white and straight—but she looked, somehow, worried suddenly. A little frightened. She handed me the box from the nightstand. It felt as is she had started to tell me something and then changed her mind. I put on the condom and we made love. It took me maybe at most a minute and half and then I was finished. This had happened to me before, more than once. I pulled myself away from her. I just. She touched my chest, her eyes alive again with that sparkle. I looked around the dark room. The curtains were pulled and the lights were off. I was tempted to reach for the remote control, which was bolted to the nightstand, and see what was on the tube. I thought about my tumbler of bourbon on the rim of the bathtub. I peeled it off in the bathroom, flushed it down the commode, and then fortified myself with a couple of solid swigs of bourbon before returning to the bed. Jessie was sitting up, her back cushioned with pillows. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her arms were wrapped around her legs. I pulled the covers to my neck and lay on my side, my head propped on my elbow. She reached down between the beds and pulled a slim wallet out of the back pocket of her jeans. From the wallet, she carefully extracted a photograph and handed it to me. I dropped the photo on the bed, as if I were worried about catching something from it. I picked up the photo again. The girl pictured in it was terribly ugly. She had the flat, dingy hair of the poor, and a hooked beak of a nose that was just plain unnaturally long. Without question, the longest nose I had ever seen. It looked like it had to be a gag: a fake nose stuck on top of the real one. It made her look freakishly ugly. The worst feature was her teeth, which were gnarled and twisted in what appeared to be double rows. She looked like she had two rows of teeth and they were all fighting with each other for some space to grow. A couple of the teeth stuck out almost horizontally, useless and freakish. Several of the teeth were discolored and appeared to be rotting. I looked at the photo again. I studied it. It made me feel weird to think that this might really be the same woman I had just had sex with. I tossed the photo to her. She placed the teeth on the nightstand beside her. Look at me. When I turned around, she was posing. A sultry look about her face, a corner of the sheet held sexily to her breasts, hiding just enough to emphasize her beauty. I touched my fingers to my forehead. I sat down on the edge of the bed and dropped my head between my knees. She knelt behind me and rubbed my back. She leaned over me, shaping her body to mine, holding me in her arms. She kissed the back of my neck. Because you know how I used to look? She nuzzled against me. Her cheek was warm against the back of my neck. We were both quiet for a while, me with my head between my legs and her with her body wrapped around me. For a while I kept seeing in my mind that picture of her looking so ugly, and then I kept going over the pure weirdness of seeing a young, attractive woman reach into her mouth and pull out her teeth and place them on a nightstand. I tried to think of something to say, but no words came. Then she pulled away from me, and when I sat up and turned around I saw her peek out the curtains and then pull them open, filling the room with daylight. When she turned around she appeared solemn. Beyond the window, the snow was falling thick as fog. A moment earlier, I think I would have asked her to leave. I leaned back against the headboard and put my arm around her shoulder, and she laid her head against my chest. I mean. I just wanted to tell you. I had never said those three words out loud. Jessie turned her body toward mine and nuzzled up against me. I stroked her forehead. Both of us. I kissed her on the shoulder, and then I went to the window and stood in front of it and watched the snow fall for a long time. In my head, there were words floating: transformation, Tulsa, snow. I could see the parking lot and a sloping hill and then beyond that the highway and a long line of trees—and all of it, except for the trunks of the trees, was covered with snow. Then, when I turned around and looked at the room again, everything was different. The colors, the textures. It was as if something inside the substances of the room had been altered and now all the surfaces looked different. It was very strange. I kept staring at everything: the soft brown wood of the headboards, the blue cotton fabric of the blankets, the white sheets—and the surfaces seemed almost to glow. The colors appeared to pulse and shimmer. It was beautiful, but it was also frightening. I had no idea what was going on with me. Not really. I went to the big mirror over the bathroom sink and looked at myself. At first nothing seemed different. It was still me. Just me. Same muscular, healthy body. Same rugged looks. I stared at my own eyes staring back at myself and then I guess because I was staring so intensely, the room disappeared out of the background. I gazed into the mirror and it was just my body, with a kind of light around me, as if I were floating. I closed my eyes. I extended my arms and tilted my head down, and then I felt as though I were plummeting, flying. For a few moments it was as if I had no body at all. What I sensed, it was ominous. I was a dark spirit, dense and hard, rock-like, but soaring like a crow, gliding though a pitch-black place, looking for something. When I opened my eyes again, everything was back to normal. I pressed against her. I looked at her face and tried to imagine under her attractive features the old face with the twisted teeth and a beak for a nose. I touched my face to her breasts and closed my eyes, and I settled toward sleep thinking not about Jessie, or how she had once looked so different, but about myself, my life, what there was of it, and just before I fell asleep that sense of being a small dark spirit returned, something hunting and angry. I pressed closer to her, pushing my body into hers, anxious to join her in her sleep and inexplicably grateful to be lying next to her in bed, in a Tulsa motel, with snow falling beyond the window. If you are a student, faculty member, or staff member at an institution whose library subscribes to Project Muse, you can read this piece and the full archives of the Missouri Review for free. Check this list to see if your library is a Project Muse subscriber. But night after night, I kept looking for Namiko at Sea Dance. White flecks of light beamed … read more. It was steely gray, shaped like a scallop shell, and all she knew was that … read more. Naked He was supposed to make breakfast. Fiction September 01, Tulsa Snow. Did you come to apologize? I sat across from her. She took off her bra. Her breasts were lovely. I had only one thing on my mind. Same smile. Same sparkle. She watched me with that searching-out look again. I got out of the bed. I stepped back, away from her. But it is. I figured something like that. Want to read more? Subscribe Today. ISSUE winter Fiction Jul 17 Naked Naked He was supposed to make breakfast.

How many weeks skiing per year to justify economically buying your own skis?

Umm Said buying snow

Forums New posts Search forums Media New media. What's new New posts New media Latest activity. Universal News and Updates Events. Log in Register. Search titles only. Search Advanced search…. New posts. Search forums. Media New media. Log in. Install the app. JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding. You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly. You should upgrade or use an alternative browser. Why do people buy milk and bread is snow is predicted? First Prev 5 of 7 Go to page. Joined Nov 29, Messages 2, DisneyWorldbuff said:. If there's a chance we're going to snowed in, I make sure to buy wine. Click to expand Yes, but really when was the last time that 'any thing' was closed for more than 2 days. Last year when we had those 30 inches in one night, the next day, the pennsylvania ballet was open for the nutcracker. The times when stuff was closed for days are long gone. Joined Feb 26, Messages 7, I haven't read all the replies, but this thread cracks me up. It happens around here too. A little bit of snow is predicted and people who never buy bread or milk normally rush to the store to pick some up. My mom even will call and ask 'There's a bad snow storm coming. Are you stocked up on milk? We can survive a couple days without milk and even when we had a record snowfall of 2 feet in a day a few years ago, we were able to get out on the roads the next day. I have enough food in my house we'd survive for a month if I went through all the canned and packaged stuff. If the storm is set to hit on Friday or Saturday, I might head to the store since my normal shopping day is Saturday. Not because I can't survive a day or two without specific items, but more because if I'm going to hole up in my house for a day or two, I want to make sure I have some yummy stuff to eat. Joined Feb 27, Messages Because people like to make french toast when it is snowing outside. Joined Jul 31, Messages 3, I haven't read all the replies, but I need milk. I have a cooler, if the power goes out Bread, OTH, I can make. I don't have a cow, so I have to buy milk. Joined Jul 4, Messages 5, Joined Apr 16, Messages 4, Yes, I normally go to the grocery store several times a week, and pick up things like bread, milk, fruits and vegetables. I'm sure I could survive a snowstorm without the perishables, but I don't want to. So I go to the store if I don't have them stocked. I don't get why it bothers people at all. Especially if you're fully stocked, you wouldn't even be at the grocery store, would you? Joined Nov 19, Messages 2, Joined Jul 22, Messages 1, Now, why? I was just there Saturday! And, it's like less than two miles away-theoretically, I could walk if need be. I'm in a very populated area with many snowplows so it's not like we'll never see pavement again But, it was my first thought. A few years back, I was in a busy line at Walmart , the day before a predicted snowstorm, and was chatting with the sweet lady behind me. She had an accent and I asked where she was from-Mississippi, they had come here after Katrina. When I mentioned the storm, she looked panicky and said, so, do you think it will be a week or two before we can get out? I said, oh no, probably 12 or less hours! I guess if I had gone through Katrina, I'd be jumpy too. Joined Feb 15, Messages 4, We had 38 inches of snowfall here in Jersey after Christmas, we are supposed to get more tomorrow night and the 38 inches has melted to maybe 8 inches, but the roads are still bad as the plows had nowhere to put the snow, so trying to get out of supermarket, crossing intersections, etc. Joined Jul 22, Messages CuteAndFluffy said:. I think there is a misconception here that everyone walking into the store the days before a storm has a crazed-looter look in his or her eyes. Sure, there are the whackadoodles who freak out at the mention of flurries and buy anything they can get their hands on, but I really think that it's just a traffic jam of grocery commerce. Maybe it is just that generation. Everything wasn't as accessible throughout their lives, and thus they plan ahead. There isn't anything wrong with that. I'm sure the current generation will have its quirks. Probably the assumption that everything is always available. Life is like that, things come full circle. Joined Jan 25, Messages 2, We got snow last night. I usually go to the grocery store Sunday but wasn't able to. The store was completely out of I know they are in a lot of dishes but this suprised me. Maybe everyone is making soup and chili? Joined Aug 8, Messages 3, I'm stocking up on wine and cheese! Joined Jun 2, Messages 21, NMW said:. That's funny, because alcohol is exactly what DH and I stock up on! Last year when a fairly bad storm was predicted, a mom from my DD's school bumped into me in the grocery store. In my cart I had brie and 2 other cheeses, 4 bottles of tonic water, margarita mix, margarita salt, Roses lime juice, whiskey sour mix, and crackers. I didn't know what we'd be in the mood for and I had already stocked up on wine She looked in my cart and said 'Umm Joined Sep 16, Messages 3, I've got a funny one to add We're in Mississippi and our news was calling for the same storm as the OP. Okay, we're not 'freak out at the weather' kind of people. So we did our normal food shop. I'm looking everywhere. Finally my DH finds someone and asks where it is Joined Oct 21, Messages I'm from the South and when a 'winter storm' is predicted here, people go a little crazy Not because of the snow - but the ice. About ten years ago an ice storm hit us and entire towns were without power for two weeks. Even though the ice melted after a couple of days, you still couldn't buy groceries, because the stores were without power and their supplies ruined! You couldn't drive to another town, because without power - gas pumps didn't work! And generators were only useful for a few days because again, no gas to be bought! Believe me, during that time, we ate and drank every last morsel of milk, eggs and bread we had the forsight to buy! And needed much more! And now we know to add another precaution to that list - fill your car with gas!! So yes, when a storm is predicted here, people get a little nervous. Joined Jul 8, Messages Haven't read entire thread, but I think there are many reasons for going to the store before a storm. For instance: I live in the northeast, and a storm with the potential of dumping 18 inches of snow is predicted to start after midnight tonight. This week the store I shop in is running their 'can' sale where a lot of the staples I use are at a tremendous discount. Due to work, family and other commitments I needed to budget my time, so last week I designated Tuesday as my shopping day so I could get the canned goods I stock up on. While I'm there I also get some fun stuff to keep DD and a friend or two occupied: cookie dough, cake mix, some snacks. No one wants to be cooped up with a cranky kid. With a storm like this, you just never know. I got my shopping done, and if I get two feet of snow and DD is out of school for two days and the roads get bad, or electricity goes out for extended periods, I'm covered. Had I gone to the store say on Friday, I wouldn't have gone today, but that is just the way my schedule worked out. Could I have done without everything I picked up today? Absolutely, but I had to get to that can sale! Joined Aug 3, Messages 7, You must log in or register to reply here. New DISboards Threads. Replies 2 Views 3. South Park. Neapolitan Ice Cream 32 minutes ago Community Board. 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Umm Said buying snow