you’re thinking. You’re thinking, ”Oh, he means he’s lost his mind, figuratively speaking. He’s gone insane.” Or maybe, ”He’s making a joke. His mind was wandering, and it wandered too far and got lost. How amusing.” No, stupid, it’s nothing like that.
You see, I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in the soul or some sort of supernatural essence that you lose when you die. But I also don’t believe that you are just your brain. I mean, if you’re in a coma or something like that, you’re not really you. The real you is your memories and personality and your internal monolog, that voice in your head when you’re thinking. It’s less than spiritual but more than just physical. That’s what I mean by ”mind.”
I was at this New Year’s party at Rebecca’s house, and she was talking to Naomi and pretending that she couldn’t feel me standing there, staring at her. She knows how I feel about her. But, when she looks at me, her face changes. She glares at me like I’m an abstract painting of a toilet covered in boils. She’s disgusted, but she keeps looking because she can’t quite figure me out.
Anyway, I remember thinking about her when I was at the party, so I know I must have had my mind with me then. I even caught Rebecca looking at me a few times, so she must have heard my thoughts, right? But when I got home, I couldn’t hear my internal monolog anymore. My mind was gone. I must have left it at the party.
I went back to Rebecca’s building and stopped at the door. I couldn’t remember what number her apartment was, so I started hitting all the buzzers and asking if Rebecca was there. People yelled and asked me if I knew what time it was. I looked at my watch, but I couldn’t read it in the darkness. I guess it must have been pretty late.
Finally, someone buzzed me inside. I walked through the building until I saw her door. Rebecca had painted her door this soft pink, like her lips and her toenails. I knocked on her door, and it took her a long time to answer. I don’t know how long. I still couldn’t read my watch, even with the light in the hallway. I heard the bolt go back, and the door opened a crack. It was still on the brass security chain. Rebecca was there, in her pale blue nightie and her insipid bunny slippers.
”What the hell?” she wondered. ”What are you doing here?”
”I left something in your apartment,” I said. ”I need it for work tomorrow. Can I come in and look for it?”
”What did you leave?” she asked. She covered her mouth and yawned. I guess I must have been boring her. Apparently Naomi is the interesting one.
”Just shut up and let me look for it, you stupid bitch,” I explained.
But Rebecca didn’t let me look for anything. She just slammed the door. I heard the bolt lock go on, and some other locks, too. And then there was this sound like a chair being dragged across the floor and shoved up against the doorknob. I guess she was worried about being robbed. She doesn’t live in the best neighborhood.
I didn’t know what else to do. I went downstairs and walked to that place where they sell donuts and coffee all night, and I tried to come up with a new plan. But I couldn’t come up with anything. Like I said, my mind was missing. Rebecca had it in her apartment, and she wouldn’t give it back.
I was really nervous and, for some reason, the coffee wasn’t helping me relax. The old man behind the counter looked at me like he thought I was sick or something. He kept wrinkling up his face and asking me if I was alright, and saying I shouldn’t tug my hair like that. I told him to shut up and mind his own fucking business, and then I ordered another cup of coffee. He poured me more coffee, but most of it ended up on my hand. I guess he must have been nervous, too.
After a few hours and about fourteen cups of coffee, this man and his girlfriend came inside. The man was wearing a gray business suit. It was expensive-looking, like the ones at JC Penny’s. His girlfriend was dressed in this incredibly short skirt and a top that barely covered her breasts. I thought it was strange, what with it being winter outside and all, but who am I to judge? Her boyfriend kept buying coffee and they would pass this flask back and fourth and mix whatever was in it with the coffee. I guess they brought their own creamer or something.
