Off to another lunch with CouchTeen today, this time to a pleasant little Indian restaurant we both enjoy. Ah, there's nothing yummier than a good Indian lunch buffet, really. For your ten bucks or whatever, you get this marvel of flavors and textures like no other cuisine seems to have. Vegetarian CouchTeen appreciates having Not Pizza every so often.
As we sat down and started to eat our delicious plate plops, we both quickly become aware of the low constant hum of the conversation in the booth behind me. There are two women there, one younger with long braided dreadlocks and yoga clothes, the other older, matronly, plump, in a red sweater and dark pants. The younger one never seems to stop talking. She is on a roll, barely taking a breath between paragraphs of rant. There is a particular cadence to the speech of this kind of fervent believer -- a monotone recitation of building concerns, with a slight matter-of-factness dripping over the edges. Now, I am really damn good at remembering long stretches of dialogue, as I must be to come back and report MissEight and Mr12's car chats here, but this stuff was coming so fast and rich that I just can't remember it all. I have to go consult with CouchTeen now.
Me: What do you remember about what the Cosmic Overtalker said?
CouchTeen: That the government was poisoning everyone with vaccines and by purposefully contaminating our food and water. That she had been to other worlds and became enlightened and travels there all the time.
Me: Oh. And that people need to wake up to reality. And that we all have to reject everything we know in order to listen to the messages we are being sent. Thank you.
CouchTeen: Sure.
So just take that and stretch it out over 30 minutes or so. I don't know what the other woman thought of all this as I could not make out the few words she did say. I do know that the Cosmic Overtalker did not teletransport away from Indian restaurant -- I saw her walk out myself.
The Indian Beatles
© Copyright 2008- Marianne Spellman