An OtR Confession

[Paul Soupiset <soupiset at toolbox_net>]

Confession.

Back on the night before the Night Before Christmas I was trying to get out
of town and to drive up to Amy's mom's house in Austin for Christmas -- it
was dark and raining and a Rutter-esque winter wind had just blown in, so I
was caught under-dressed for the occasion. I still had one gift to buy, and
several to wrap. I was late for dinner in Austin and it really looked like I
wasn't going to get out of town until 9:ish. I was cold and tired and not up
for driving another hour and a half into the deluge.

I pulled in front of my house to grab a toothbrush and some warmer clothes
before heading out to shop. Kept the car running and briskly walked to my
front parch. And what to my wondering eyes did appear, twas a squareish --
CDish -- brown-wrapped package with an Ohio postmark and OVER THE RHINE
stamped thereupon, sitting in the rain.

"She loves me!" I said out loud.

Amy had left town the day before, and she must have been panicking that this
major two-CD-stocking-stuffer hadn't arrived in time to receive. I stooped
to pick it up and -- not knowing if the package also contained any
postcards, stickers, etc. that required my removing the package into the
warmth of the house -- I checked to see if the package would have fit
through our mail slot.

Just barely, but yes.

So then and there I created a slightly altered version of reality. I blotted
the package dry and gently placed the CD package (address-side-down) on the
hardwood floor just where it would have landed if our postman had hastily
shoved it through the slot with the other envelopes. I placed a few
envelopes on top for good measure.

Later I carefully let myself out of the house and remembered that when our
family returned to San Antonio on Christmas Eve, I was to make sure my wife
was the first to walk through the door. I would linger out at the car
gathering up items so she could discover the package amidst the mail at her
feet and she would secret it off to some closet somewhere to wrap later.

It worked. Should I feel guilty? Cutting Room Floor and Darkest Night of the
Year complete my collection of the band's main catalogue. There are some
rarebits that I can chase later, but everything for sale on the website is
sitting next to my stereo.

At times, I suppose, I find myself creating these situational fictions to
either make another feel better, or to protect what is mine, or to create a
more intriguing story (or in this case all of the above). When planing and
conspiring for clever gift-giving, deception seems to be culturally
accepted. 

That's all.


-- 
paul r. soupiset
toolbox studios
454 Soledad, Suite 100
San Antonio, TX 78205
210.225.8269 x102
Fax.225.8200
http://toolbox.net

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