Twitches

Kilroy was here

I finally found the answer. Last night was bad; I was having spasms in my knee and could not sleep. When I can’t sleep I am guilty of thinking. For some reason I was thinking about shopping the net versus real stores. I like browsing small shops but the big stores are like Facebook; they give me the creeps. Because of the bad knee, my store of choice is Amazon.com. I was remembering how I used to shop with Carolyn at Wal-Mart and a few other impersonal big stores. While in the middle of a memory, I remembered the reason I quit accompanying her to shopping back before my knee turned bad. I was wondering why my bride is a compulsive shopper and will tackle almost anything that has a “Sale” sign on it. A sudden spasm caused me to vividly see her going down an aisle displaying things for sale. She would move along and all of a sudden she through on the brakes and start tossing things from both sided into her cart. A lot of merchandise was knocked to the floor during her unusual activity and she bothered not to pick it up. She would walk awhile more and do the same weird thing again. Last night I realized she was having spasms; shopping spasms. She is one of the latter-day compulsive-spasmatics. Other shoppers would cringe in fear as her arms went flailing like a Dutch windmill on steroids, hands grabbing and tossing. I kept lagging farther and farther behind her in the store, hoping no one would know I was with her. Finally she would fill her cart and holler for me to push it while she went for another one. Her eyes became glazed like that of a reefer freak and there was an evil glint in her eye that threatened “don’t fuck with this girl while I am shopping!”. Her strange behavior is the real reason I quit going shopping; the knee became a convenient excuse. Even now when we are browsing in Amazon or Wal-Mart web stores, she periodically begins twitching her arms and some of the old look comes back to her eyes. When it happens, I tell her that my hands are hurting and I am going to quit. It is usually at least a half-hour more before I can get away from her frightening shoulder twitches and shelf-roving evil eye.

Friday!