Me, Myself and I

Ego and I have been one since before we could talk. Our conversation is non-stop, except for sleeping. But even then, he’s my stand-in for dreams, although, Id, the silent one, tries to direct. The other one, [Supra], just stands in the back, occasionally shouting objections when we’re about to have any fun.

Ego sits squarely between my ears, listening, feeling, pulling body strings, and watching the show coming in through my eyes. He’s grown like I have: kid, teenager, adult, and now curmudgeon. As we’ve matured, his voice has deepened into a soft avuncular presence that doesn’t sound at all like mine. Of course “my” voice I’ve only heard on tape. And I don’t like it much. Sometimes I don’t even recognize it as mine.

Ego: {Okay, okay. Cut all this expository crap and get on with the story.}

I have to introduce you. You’re a main player.

Ego: {Main player? I’m ‘thee’ player. I’m you!}

Yeah, but sometimes you get out of control and other forces have to keep you in check. A word at the beginning was needed.

Ego: {Hey, you may be new at this, but they say good writers don’t have to explain anything. They just ‘do’... So stop!}

* * *

The low fuel light in my Celica blinked on just as I was approaching Wal-Mart. I stopped at their gas station to tank up. I didn’t notice, until I grabbed the hose handle, that it was all wet. The smell of gasoline on my hands is revolting.

Ego: {No I didn’t spill it, the darn fool before me left the handle covered with it.}

Why is it so hard to just do things right? You know, like let the nozzle drain into the tank before you pull it out.

Ego: {Most people are on autopilot for about everything they do. Not paying attention.}

“Whirr” comes from the pump.

I miss the bells on gas pumps. Remember, every ten cents you’d get a “ding.” Now just a Whirr.

Ego: {If they still had bells it’d sound like a phone ringing. The price of gas is so high.}

“Whirr.”

Another car pulls into the next position at the pump island. A Candy-Apple-Red Corvette.

Ego: {Boy, I’m sure glad I didn’t get a “Glass Pig” like that.}

Yeah, a lot of power. It can pass most anything, except a gas station.

“Whirr.”

A redhead gets out... in shorts.

Supra: [Aw, geeze! Look the other way!]

Ego: {What, and miss this? Go back to sleep Supra.}

Looking.

Supra: [I said, look the other way!]

“Fine day for a drive,” comes out of my mouth.

“Great. Nice sun,” Red answers.

“Whirr.”

Supra: [Oh boy, Id is getting all excited now.]

“You had the T-roof off yet?”

Supra: [Oh crap, just pump the darn gas.]

“Whirr.”

“No, still a little cold. Maybe in a week or two,” as she engaged the pump.

Supra: [She’s wearing a ring! Mind your own business!]

Red inserts the nozzle into the Vet.

Supra: [Did she really have to bend over like that?]

Ego: {Mmm... Glad she did!}

“Whirr, Whirr.”

Supra: [You feel that? Id is gaining control! Heart rate is up ten points.]

“You have to use high test?”

“That’s what they say.”

“Whirr, Whirr.”

Ego: {Wow, what a smile.}

Supra: [You noticed her smile too? I’m surprised.]

Whirr, Whirr, gurgle, gurgle, gush!

Ego: {Darn, shut off didn’t work!}

Gas everywhere, hands, shirt, pants.

“Careful,” Red says.

“Aw, just a few drops,” replacing the nozzle into the pump cradle.

Ego: {Shoes are soaked.}

* * *

Supra: [You can’t teach a class smelling like a gas pump!]

Ego: {I’ll have to go home to change.}

I drove back home with all the windows down to help dissipate the smell. Didn’t work though.

I changed clothes, shoes and socks quickly because I was, by now, not going to make it to class in time. Then, raced down I-93, only slowing to the speed limit at the state police haunts, and made it to school a minute late.

Supra: [Not a good move! Instructor shows up late for the first class in a new quarter?]

Ego: {Oh shut up Supra! Couldn’t be helped.}

Supra: [If you’d listened to me in the first place... ]

I picked up the roster from the office and headed to classroom eleven. Dumped my books and binder on the desk and immediately started reading the list.

There were fifteen names. As I read them allowed, the students acknowledged with a “here” or a “yo.” Number nine was not present.

After I finished, I looked up and asked, “Anyone not on the roster?”

A hand went up in the back, “I just registered ten minutes ago.” It was Red!

Supra: [Oh no!]

Ego: {I’m going to like this section.}

“Name – spell it!”

“Cynthia Spellman, S-P-E-L-L-M-A-N.”

Ego: {Goodie, goodie. Cynthia, huh... but I still like ‘Red.’}

I wrote her onto the roster. “Anyone else?”

None.

“I have a few copies of the syllabus, but you should have downloaded it as soon as you registered.”

Three hadn’t and came forward for copies... Red was one.

Ego: {She changed shoes too. What are those, three inch heels?}

Supra: [Just give her the darn syllabus.]

I covered all the other administrative stuff you have to go through at the start of a new class. But it was getting hard to concentrate, Id was stirring.