Chapter 5 - Making a Match III

   Its all about the ritual. I know I sound like a broken record, but ritual and karma got me through the worst period in my life I could have ever imagined coming to pass. Now that I'm getting most of the things back that were taken from me, they're adding to the other things I had while waiting all along.

   Panic says money is like love. Its up at the top of most lists. As a former psych student? I can tell you that historically, most modern first world people were putting love first and money running a close second. Not that they're weren't people with the top two spots reversed, but tallying the votes told that tale.

   Most people realize something changed somewhere along the line, they just can't put their finger on it. People in and around my psychology field, such as anthropologists and sociologists, don't have that armchair luxury. Asked when, it was their job to answer questions such as that. Primarily concerned with America and western Europe, they traced the lists back and compared them as they were taken. Love money, love money... oh. Here we go, then. Money, love.

   There was no real switch flipping moment, it was more like a dimmer switch rotated ever so slowly. The frog boiled while enjoying the warming water.

   1900? Love then money. 1910, same. You would think money took over if only temporarily from the boom to bust that was the roaring twenties followed by the great depression. Too much money and success too fast, followed by a prolonged period of want. But, not so. We kept our values up to then through world war two, and all through the fifties.

   The 60's brought the hippie generation, and disaffected youth. The message was loud and clear, make love not war. Everybody, love everybody. Literally and figuratively both, I might add. Traditional success, that being largely measured in terms of money and social rank, made way temporarily for the flower generation.

   Yes, I said temporarily.

   The 70's brought bizarre social times. The hippies quietly all filed off to college, got professional degrees, and honestly joined the establishment. Those not college bound? Worked just as hard or harder than their brethren at the universities. They started businesses or had upwardly mobile careers. Some weird blend of the hippie aesthetic and the traditional model blended into a sort of Rorschach inkblot that became... well, no one was really sure what came next.

   Pinching off the turd that had been Vietnam, allowed the 70's to run its course into these uncharted waters. Everyone from casual pundits and observers to professionals studying these things, were honestly curious to see what would happen next. Love, however... still topped money.

   By 1980, the hippies that had joined the establishment in droves had kids growing up. The young adults of 1960, now had young adults of their own by 1980. This new generation? Grew up without want. Success, was to be had. As much as you wanted, too. Everyone competed and compared notes. Corporations aren't dumb, and provided things to feed it. Conspicuous consumption became the new normal.

   Where it had once been enough to have "this" much, you were now expected to see that bar as your minimum, not the finish line. Are you an employee? Become management. Management? Are you lazy, or are you trying to crack into upper management. Own a business? Open another one. Why not have twice as much. Got two or more businesses humming smooth? You should think about becoming a corporation. You have a corporation running well? Issue stock and take over some competition, so you can really win the game. Then, you can get a better house and car and clothes, and... go out for nights on the town and gallivant to show it off. The 80's basically turned into the roaring twenties all over again.

   Cocaine replaced illegal alcohol as the show off public social drug of choice, when the 20's and the 80's got the extended comparisons. The flappers resembled the young women of the 80's. But the 80's had a surprise up its sleeve. Greed. Success was not only good, it was great. What you call greed? That's just a word used by lazy people. Be greedy, be selfish. Where a lot of focus had always been on the family, and the community? To hell with that.

   Talk shows and pundits and the self help books, found a new marketing strategy. New phrases, like "me time" came into common usage. In the 50's, any book titled "Its all about me!" would have been either an ironic title or a negative example. Not now. Corporatism flourished, success and greed were wonderful values to hold. Hostile takeovers and corporate conglomerates of previously unimaginable proportions, became the norm. It was no longer enough to have a big name brand food item. You were to buy up other brands and put a big corporation owning all of them out there. The mega-corporation if not born, was normalized.

   Not that the 80's didn't have cracks at the seams, if you knew where to look. First herpes and then AIDS broke out. It mirrored the syphilis pandemics of the earlier bygone eras all over again. We had conquered syphilis, it hurts to pee just go get a shot. Herpes, though? No cure, only management. If herpes was the jab, then AIDS was the knockout punch.

   Everyone stood back and scratched their heads, just in different camps about how we got to where we were, and what to do about it. So by 1990, we were now all set to repeat the 1960 to 1970 social period all over again, minus Vietnam. A new breed of a sort of micro-hippie movement broke out. Retro interest and styles broke out. The long unkempt male hair and beards of the hippie's heyday morphed into long hair for men, but with pronounced hygiene and clothing and accessories.

   Success movements broke out as well. Young men wearing suits and carrying briefcases, imitating the Wall Street broker styles and looks. Older people in charge tried to squash down with authority in all ways, but everyone knew that tune by now. As long as enough young people thumb their nose and point and laugh? Its all hot air. Punk rock look, a 50's look came out and stayed. Guys in expensive suits and guys in jeans and motorcycle jackets with long hair that was styled.

   Big and public figures? Went either way. Some giant CEO's started the trend of wearing jeans with a sport coat. Actors and comedians? Expensive suit, but with a plain though pricey T shirt for that successful but casual look. Casual day hit offices, women started dressing like hookers not just for party night but for an everyday look. It was like all possible trends, motivations, and ideas from previous times? Were all heaped up on top of a keg of gunpowder and set off.

   Pieces of everything went in all directions, and weird combinations showed up and took hold. Odd things. You'd see a multi-millionaire in a very expensive suit, getting out of a limousine to hit the red carpet? With jogging shoes. No one knew what the hell they wanted, really. The traditional good wife, had morphed into the trophy wife. And if the trophy on your mantle, wasn't as impressive as what your peer walked around with for arm candy? Get divorced, find success and just buy a better one. Then you can really show him, damn it.

   Divorce and suing everyone left and right, were both long held social taboos. Only the upper crust did that stuff. That behavior filtered down to everyone else now. Single motherhood, was now no longer a stigma, nor a normal state. Why, it was simply the superior thing to do.

   Through all of this? America's traditional value system didn't get cracked, it got smashed into a million pieces like a wrecking ball swung on full tilt into a big plate glass window. In terms of values? We never really recovered, and its hard to see it coming around again.

   But one thing stands clear. Love, the perennial top of most peoples want or need list? Took a permanent second place to success. Also, how you achieved your success no longer mattered. Sue someone, and laughing about how you walked with a cane and a neck brace for a year until you got your settlement? You no longer pointed, and said... oh, them? They get into paint scratched accidents going one mile an hour? And sue. This is the 4th time in as many years. You just admired the new house, car, and furniture... and all the free time they had to enjoy all their financial gains.

   Divorce, another taboo? Gone. Single parent? Practically better than two parents, to hear the accolades of it. Hard drug use? Who cares. Steal your best friend's wife and kids and dog out from under him? Hey, you blinked.

   At the diner, we sat and discussed this topic. My values? Came from parents and living close to my dad's grandparents, all of us on a big family farm ranch. Panic shares my values, though he acquired them in other ways. We weren't going to come up with any answers, and we both knew it.

   Panic shrugged, grinned, and simply stated the obvious.

   "The hell can you even do about it."

   I froze. I closed my eyes, and felt the cold fingers of a slow and long lasting shiver spread over me and disintegrate into tingles. Just for a moment? It was like he was imitating my little movie I play to calm myself, my personal inner ritual. He's now looking at me funny, trying to figure out what just passed over my face. I'm not going to cry, but my eyes are moist. It triggered a replay of Wiz dying. I'm watching Wiz in my field of vision now. PTSD images and video clips? Are so real its breathtaking. Panic did and said it, and now Wizzy is doing it on repeat.

   Some sort of surreal, what... interpersonal social echo.

   He immediately realized somewhat quickly what had just went on, and what I was seeing. I got his "sorry" mask, then his "apologetic" mask. With the change between the two, from one to another. His default go to mask, is his signature grin. He'll generally go from normal sardonic grin, to another mask face and back. He's never quite mastered fully moving between masks, so if he doesn't simply do the other mask and return to home base, his grin? Its a speck of odd that resembles a slight facial tic. Its just an instantaneous flash then its gone, and if you didn't know what you were looking at or even for? You wouldn't think anything was amiss.

   His left eye will give a hair of a twitch, like he stopped a blink while starting it. A lip corner pops the curl and back. He'll wave his hand slowly and do... something, anything with his eyes and slowly return to the signature grin, his best mask he has.

   This is mainly for just me. When required mask changes come too quick with strangers or the casual acquaintances? He'll just drop the face and body language momentarily. Or he risks a happy mask flashing when it definitely shouldn't. He has excellent recovery skills. If he detects the puzzled look, he does his magic act. He feigns that he's momentarily distracted, or that he went into thought and apologizes and makes a self deprecating joke.

   With complete strangers or very casual acquaintances? He'll include them in his show. Hey, is that something by that tree. Where. The black thing, is that a little black bear? No, that's a stump.

   Then he's "back" in the conversation, but he's on auto pilot now. Polite nods and gestures every so often in some well practiced rhythm.

   If he actually cuts loose and wants to get drunk with the boys around the campfire? Its because enough people know he's "moody" as people call him. He'll drop his face and body language, breaking only for his comedian entertain the boys routines. Someone new? Why is that guy all pissed off, what's wrong. His friends and close acquaintances don't even realize, that they're part of his cover. One hears this, he'll yell over at him.

   "Hey! New guy wants to know if you're okay!"

   And he'll get up, and do some entertaining shit for a little bit.

   We're alone enough in the morning diner rush crowd, that I can drop my face. He just gave a slow blink, and joined me. I guess we look like a couple about to either argue, or start french kissing over the table. If even anyone was noticing. His blank thousand yard stare doesn't unnerve me. It warms and comforts me. We're the only people each of us can be truly ourselves with. I casually wormed a finger over to touch the corner of one eye, just in case.

   "I didn't think, I'm s---"

   "You're fine. Its nothing."

   He sighed, and we had a comfortable yet short silence.

   "Honestly? Don't go thinking you made me sad. More of a really sweet, bittersweet moment. You kind of, sounded just like him for a second there. Which you almost always do, it was just a little more than usual."

   "As long as you like it."

   I'm still in a dropped face and well into it now.

   "I don't like it."

   He furrowed his brow, and turned his head slightly to give me more of one eye than another. When he's momentarily confused or deciding, you can get that. Always his right eye, too. Never the left. The left always does the tics, the right always does the... studying the bug on a pin routine.

   "Actually, I love it."

   He nods slight and slow a few times, when he's sure all is actually well. When he's satisfied I'm not doing the "nothing" normal girl routine, that nothing obviously means something.

   "Do you want to go, or..."

   "No. I like my routine. Which is our routine. And its to have a couple cups of coffee, and bullshit after breakfast."

   "As long as you tolerate me."

   I got up and said I was going to take a coffee pee. I leaned in on my way past him.

   "I don't tolerate you. I prefer you."

   His finger touched the edge of the same eye I had touched preemptively. His thumb and index finger tip rubbed. Checking for moisture.

   "Its nothing. I just got a little piece of ghost in my eye."

   I gave him a genuine, honest emotional smile. I was quite proud of my little play on the phrase... I'm not crying, I have some dust in my eyes. He immediately moved from go to laconic grin, to the sideways eye and furrowed brow. Why am I a bug on a pin, just now? He must be reading my facial emotions.

   He was basically born without facial expressions and body language. It naturally also means that he wasn't able to read body language normally. Now that I have emotions and real faces and body vibes, I find him studying me with the bug on a pin routine. Making sure my body and face talk, match what my words claim.

   I feel intense guilt pangs that subside as soon as they arrive. Every time I realize I can pass for a "normie" now. I don't ever want to become one, nor wake up one day and find out it sneaked up on me. First you hate being different. Then, you try to cover it up to fit in. Most people, normies I suppose... never get past that if they encounter the slightest improvement pretending every day. Instead? Fight through that, to get to accepting who and what you really and truly are. The final step? You no longer tolerate yourself, and morph to blend.

   You no longer accept, and now truly love being different. That's his way. When someone says... are you crazy or something? He just grins and nods.

   "Huh?"

   I'm getting the bug on a pin study time again.

   "What."

   "You said, you have a ghost in your eye."

   "No, get your hearing checked. I said... toast in my eye. I was making a joke."

   "Okay."

   "Its more than okay. Its perfectly fine."

   I paused before adding to it as an exit line to go pee.

   "I love you."

   I scurried off to use the ladies room. Now that I think about it? I might have said I had a piece of ghost in my eye. To make a joke about my single tear.

   Talk about a Freudian slip. The more I think about it, I probably did say ghost. Wouldn't be half as funny, except when I said I love you just now exiting the table?

   I was saying I love you, to both of them.

   By the time I got back, it had all passed like a silent fart in the wind. I know from male female and therapy psych classes of various relationship issues. I just stung him. Maybe not like a wasp or a bee, more like a mosquito poke. But still. I made the gaffe. He didn't poke fun at me for it, he was his usual apologetic and polite self. I covered my mistake over, with what. You need your hearing checked.

   Typical girl trick. You do something, and you turn it around with words that mean diddly shit to put it on him. At least I didn't finish it up like most women do. Act all smug, after avoiding blame and acting superior out of it. I grabbed one of his hands in both of mine and in low soothing tones, quickly and succinctly went over it. That he was probably or almost surely, right. I was most likely wrong. I had no right to snap even a little at him, when I wasn't being humorous. I ended with one of my signature lines.

   "So? Sorry for acting like a twat."

   "Don't worry about it."

   I nodded.

   "Thanks."

   The hell was that. It must come with the emotions. Guess I kind of got lazy not watching myself for the years I spent without any emotions. Well, I watched myself even closer than normal, way more closely. Just for other things, and I suppose it edged that out fast. I have to start again.

   If we ever hate each other and break up, I'm bound and determined it won't be over stupid twat shit like I just pulled. You don't have to be perfect to have a good relationship. But the best band aid is to admit fault, apologize. Mean it, of course. Then you move on. You don't get divorced over a stray fart under the covers, as my grandmother put it ever so colorfully.

   This thought, gave me a bizarre mental image that flashed through. I woke up to take a pee, and found out that he had shit the bed. I laughed internally at that weird thought. With emotions again now, and not having to worry about anyone seeing my dropped face? I guess the mirth and amusement played on my face. I got the bug on a pin eyeballing, he's seeing if I'm making actual fun of him. I never do that, only in fun.

   "I'm not laughing at you. I just had one of those weird thoughts pass through my warped brain. It was humorous."

   Now I'm getting the fake stink eye. He has a million routines. This is another of them.

   "Really? Tell me the funny joke."

   I leaned in and sketched it out. Where it came from and the background that had produced it. Then, my grandmother's colorful phrase. Then? That he had shit the bed, and I just suggested we get another mattress, we can afford it. We can both do crude humor and appreciate it. He nodded, and grinned.

   "I guess I'll buy that one, and let it slide."

   "Why? I could be lying."

   "Nah. No way you made that up, that quick."

   "Well. Glad you finally decided not to send me back to China."

   He snickered.

   "If you knew the average height and weight of the average Chinese person? Christ, they'd have you playing professional football."

   "Do the Chinese even have football teams?"

   "I actually don't know. But I think their football, is soccer."

   My phone beeped. Text. What are you doing this weekend. It was Szarabjorna. After consulting him for our plans, I tapped back. You have an idea?

   Then while waiting for the text to bounce back, my phone simply rang.

   "Hi Zar. What's up."

   "I just called to say thanks."

   "For..."

   "I just get direct deposit. I normally don't check my account that much. I did. I guess I got a raise? Or, am I fucking myself because the error was in my favor and I opened my mouth."

   "Yes, dear. You got another raise."

   "Why?"

   "I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you're sleeping with the owner."

   "Shit. Thought it was that I was so amazing cutting video clips, that you were afraid you were going to lose me. Just checking."

   "Honey. Like its the first time we ever bumped you up."

   "You guys normally tell me."

   "Slipped my mind. Like its scary to see extra money in your account."

   "Just checking. A long time ago? I had a stray deposit, and spent it? Then later on, the bank found the accidental transfer. I had to cough it up quick. I mean, their mistake? And they're charging me interest unless I coughed it up in a lump sum, pretty much immediately."

   "No, dear. Spend it or save it. Its fine."

   "Just checking."

   "Wait a minute. The hell's that got to do with what we're doing this weekend."

   "Nothing. Was seeing if I could drag you guys here this weekend."

   "Good or bad."

   "Good. I was just seeing if..."

   "What."

   "If you could kidnap Junior and get him up here, too."

   "Computer problems?"

   "No. But, if you can't get him? I might fake damsel in distress on that to get him here."

   "Dear. Just call JG, a---"

   "I wanted it to be a surprise."

   "What surprise."

   "Well if I tell you, it won't be that much of a surprise. Will it, now."

   "I guess not. Hold on."

   "Honey? She wants to know if we can go there this weekend."

   "Sure."

   "She wants to know, if you can get JG to come with us."

   He looked at me.

   "Did he get a new cell number and forget to give it to her? Tell her, to call him."

   Honestly, this whole high school romance routine is cute and amusing.

   "I'll see what I can do. Me and him, at a minimum. If we can whack Junior over the head and stuff him in the trunk? Maybe him too."

   "Okay. That'll do."

   "Honey? When do you need us there. Friday, Saturday..."

   "I don't care when you get here, and the longer you stay the better, but... the thing is at 8:00 at night, Saturday night."

   "Do we need, what. Money, guns..."

   "Its not like I'm hitting you up for a down payment on a car or anything. Jesus. Couple bucks, and whatever you guys wear out to a club."

   "Dress code?"

   "Not really. I was there before. Everything from suits to what you would wear to any bar."

   "We'll be there. I'll handle him."

   "Great! See you..."

   "Bye."

   He's giving me the quiz look.

   "Well?"

   Because I don't do speaker phone, or he'd already know. I hate speaker phone.

   "Did I miss another memo, and a stockholder meeting?"

   "Oh, yeah. She got a little raise. Its normal."

   "I figured that out. Anyways, you're punishment, for not consulting your business partner? You're taking a nice suit with you."

   "I'm not wearing a tie."

   "Did I say you had to wear a tie?"

   "No. Just preempting you. Unless there's an explicit dress code, no tie."

   I grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt not long later, and scarfed him up and in, like I was intimidating him.

   "You, will wear whatever I put on you."

   "I guess I will."

   I kissed him so he knew I was kidding. I mean, he knows, but... after my toast ghost gaffe, I'm on guard.