nileflow network

It was Monday again.  I felt like I've waited for eternity. I counted down the hours and made my way to Mayel's garage right after finishing work.  But, I was early. There was a guy I hadn't met before sitting outside.  He had tipped the blue recycling bin over and made it his couch. Folded into a bean shape, he had his nose stuck into a fat Sudoku book. He started speaking without even lifting his head up to see who I was.
"I have about a dozen candidates to eliminate and another half a dozen or so to subscript before I can look up, so whoever you are, you are fashionably early.  The rest of the guys should be arriving soon."  He spoke like a surgeon in the middle of an operation; slowly and trying not to disturb the other half of his brain.  The one that is figuring out the numbers scattered all over the page. The part of the brain that's in charge of the most important thing at this moment: the numbers.  "Ah, okay... I'll be back" I said sensing he's not interested in a chit chat with anyone.

"Oh, you are a girl. I'm now officially distracted but my eyes refuse to look up. Would you mind staying so I can introduce myself once I'm done with this cell? I'm sure we haven't met before."  He still wasn't looking up and spoke in the same tone.  I wasn't sure if I liked being a distraction, but I didn't mind waiting for him.  I had nowhere else to be.  I came back to this garage for more of what I found last week.  I had been counting down the days.  I had been counting down the hours.  I'm looking forward to getting back into this garage and being surrounded by these people whom I was accidentally acquainted with. Of course I'll wait for the Sudoku Surgeon. I had nowhere else to be.  There was nowhere else I would rather be.  So I waited. I didn't tell him I will.  He didn't ask again. He just knew I was waiting. I didn't know exactly how long it would take for the numbers to fly out of his head, but I waited. I waited, and I am waiting.

This is now my second Monday at Mayel's garage. It is addictive.  The people are painfully blunt.  I wasn't too comfortable when Mayel invited me in for the first time.  I was the only female and felt like an intruder in some gender specific sect.  But I washed my fear with a bottle of Stella passed to me by a guy with a braided goatee.

"Here you go my lady, don't say no and break my heart."  He whispered his name and winked as I extended my hand with a smile to acknowledge his kindness and accept the offer. "Isac"

Isac handed me the bottle and returned to the heated argument. "But you have to understand that Intelligence Quotient was conducted by some German psychologist and it..."  The other guy jumped in raising his voice.  "It doesn't matter who invented the IQ test!  Intelligence and knowledge are two entirely different things!"

They were already half way through this argument when I walked in.  I just sat there and listened.  Isac reached for his paint stained bag and pulled out a book, Sigmund Freud: Civilization and its Discontents. He began to flick through the pages while waiting for his turn to make a point.  I had my eyes fixed on the title of the book.  Their voices became a blurred background.  I began to wallow through my own discontents. I tried to list them, but it was hard listening to my own head while all these male voices were echoing off the garage walls.

I found myself fixated on Isac’s braided goatee. It moved amiably while he was chanting out words aimlessly in an attempt to force sense out of his thoughts. May be I was the only one his thoughts couldn’t make sense to. His braided goatee made more sense than his words.  It spoke loudly of his character. He is his own person. His hair was half mess, a quarter dread locks and a quarter old braids. It looked like the physical form of his thoughts. It is easy to see a lot of thinking goes on in his head. He’s just not as gifted with wording his thoughts as the other guys, so they keep interrupting him and make their points. He starts to play with his goatee as frustration comes knocking on his door.  Perhaps an endeavour to calm himself down.  I wanted to touch his goatee too, but I had only just met the guy.

He is right under my nose.  I’m staring at his fingers play with the pencil he uses to stab the page, and I am waiting.  I’m still waiting to meet the Sudoku Surgeon.


...to be continued