It's been awhile. And I don't think anyone is even reading this anymore, and why would they? I've been radio silent for, what, a year now? But on the off chance someone somewhere at some point happens upon this page, he/she will find a posting that is not way past its shelf date.
I take a writing course at NCSU every summer, and this year one of the classes I took was creative non-fiction. Which basically means real life... only more detailed and spiced up than your average diary entry. Think David Sedaris. If you don't know that name... why do I know you?
In conclusion- I wrote this during my creative non-fiction class. That is all.
Darla
and I met fairly recently. I chose her because she chose me first. Although
Darla is technically not a she- that is- Darla is biologically male. I fell in
love with her at first sight. She was exactly what I’d been looking for, so,
naturally I bought her.
Darla’s
a fish. More specifically, she is my boyfriend’s fish. But she started out
belonging to my friend. Same friend as boyfriend. Darla was imperative in that
transition.
His
birthday was on a Thursday, and the concept of Darla took shape that Saturday
while I was- God forbid- a little tipsy at the beach. Come Wednesday afternoon,
Darla still seemed a pretty sound idea.
Every
day I drive my best friend home, but Wednesday afternoon when she got in my
car, I asked how she felt about stopping at PetSmart. There was some confusion
when I read this to my class thinking my best friend is Darla. I’d like to
clarify my best friend is not a fish. She’s a lady person. Anyway, my lady
person best friend consented- no questions asked.
The
only hint my past friend (present boyfriend) received was that of a photo of
aforementioned human best friend inside a dog crate on display. I can only
imagine what he must have thought at that point.
I
don’t know if you’re aware of this, but the vast majority of beta fish sold in
stores are male- because they’re the pretty ones. Yay feminism! Therefore,
PetSmart had no female fish on display. This did not align with the plan in my
head. So I wrote an F-E in front of the label reading “Male Beta- Blue.”
I
then took Darla’s cup to the cashier… then I finally realized what was
happening. “Wait! What am I doing?” I screeched.
The
poor girl paused, mid-barcode swipe. “I thought you were going to buy the
fish.”
My
best friend grabbed my shoulder and reassured the girl that we were in fact
still purchasing the stupid fish.
Panicking,
I asked “Why? I barely know him and now I’m buying him a fish?! These ideas
should only be shaped during moments of complete sobriety! This is what couples
do and he’s going to think I’m a complete weirdo.”
As
good friends do, mine reminded me that I am in fact a weirdo.
The
cashier included a warranty with Darla.
Late
that night I laid down, watching Darla’s aqua tail flick the water in the
aquarium I had all set up for her. Her restlessness mimicked mine, anticipating
the events of the following day’s gifting.
