P is for Potato

#156: Also for Personality

She combed her hair today. For a change. She appears to have made peace with her shower and the permanent grease on her scalp seems to have surrendered. But of course, this is all for him, so that she could sit beside him and let him know that she is a girl, not a potato. She has also finally discovered the existence and proper use of earrings. Potato rings, anyone?

His eyes continue to be blank. Blank when looking at her. Blank when looking at me. So what is it that is or isn't there? Does it start with a P? Shall we order a double dose of personality? When I get kids of my own, remind me to raise them with personalities. And with a fondness for washing their hair.

I guess that was what Kolker had that drew me to him. True, he was losing hair daily by the hundreds. True, he has a bit of a paunch. True, he has a dreadful shirt with David's star on it rendered in red and green. And true, he was a lunatic. BUT, he had a fascinating personality that came with an unspoken promise that through repetitive microwave or Japanese or Korean dinners, conversation will always be new. Laughter will always be hearty. And the moment will always be fresh. No blank stares here. Only brief moments of silence within which to catch our breath so we could be silly again.

Hmm. Perhaps I am seeing things in the forgiving haze of the past. He was after all, Kolker. And in the end, he proved to be unkind.

She inched closer to him and for a second, I was sure she would touch his cheek again. In class. While we were all going through the topic of Data Randomization. Ech. He looks straight ahead as if in the trance. No effect. I almost feel sorry for the girl. How can you pour so much effort on someone so unresponsive, so boring, so dead? Go hug a tree instead.