CHAPTER 5.5

Howdy, howdy,

I'm off to another busy day of coloring, which means now is a good time for the next installment of Sex Offenders. But before that, I wanted to follow up on my review of Todd Field's LITTLE CHILDREN. It was interesting and pretty good over all. I was surprised by the relatively small amount of pedophelia and perversion until I found out it was based on a book. Don't get me wrong, there was still some of that stuff, but not a lot by Todd Fieldsian standards. It's about relationships, infidelity, and ultimately states the case that no matter how bad we fuck up, we can always make ammends. Basically the theme seemed to me to be "Its never to late to repair your life (instead of running from or destroying it)". Good acting, some funny/bizarre little moments... and Kate Winslet's bare ass. What more can you ask for?

Oh, and I want to officially pat myself on the back for figuring out where the actor who played the pervert RONNIE came from. Without any prompting or internet research I figured out that he was Kelly from the original Bad News Bears! Not bad considering that he is like 30 years older now. You may not be impressed, but I was.

Enjoy the next installment!

b

CHAPTER 5.5

Edwin Rolle's spends his day obsessed with Mae's breasts. Even while he is out on the road visiting vendors, he obsesses about them. He speculates about their size and shape, and their taste and texture. He builds a 3-D model of them in his head, using educated guesses to fill the large gaps in raw data, due to the fact that he has never actually seen them. He more than gives her the benefit of the doubt, constructing a pair of breasts that are the Socratic definition of perfect-the standard by which all other breasts are measured.

While chewing the fat with the district manager of the Cantell Toy company, Edwin's overwhelming desire to gossip gets the best of him. He gives a mostly fictional account of the morning's conversation, bragging about how both Joan and Mae made sexual overtures towards him. When the District manager takes the bait and asks for more juicy details, he embellishes further with the a series of flat out lies, the most offensive being his claim that Mae gesticulated her intentions of giving him oral satisfaction, while the others had their heads turned. He and the manager share a male bonding moment, that culminates with the unanimous agreement that Edwin is the greatest thing since sliced bread. This meeting elevates Edwin's confidence to an all time high that lasts past quitting time and well into his gathering at Hardball's.

Mae spends the rest of the day in a foul mood. Not only is she overwhelmed playing catch-up with all the work she was unable to do the past two days, but something sticks in her craw. She doesn't even realize what it is until later in the afternoon, and by that time her day is already shot. While on break with the smoking regulars, she overhears Joan mention Danny to one of the other girls. They whisper quietly for a moment, then start giggling like school girls. At that moment, that thing sticking in her craw becomes obvious. Mae is annoyed by Joan's speculation about Danny's sexual endowment. Then, the dormant negative feelings about her friend return for an encore, and this time they aren't so fleeting. They persist in a annoyingly prickly fashion that is never excruitating, but ever present.

Mae avoids talking to Joan for the last few hours, although Joan, caught up in her own web of self absorption, fails to notice. On several occasions Joan attempts to converse with Mae, but is rebuked each time with work-related justifications. There are no hard feelings from Joan because is not in her nature to think that a friend would avoid her for any reason. Her second greatest shortcoming, besides a hindsight bordering on legally blind, is her inability to see the world outside of her perceptions of it. She can't divorce her personal feelings from the world long enough to have even the suggestion of objectivity. Because of that she is woefully inept at determining how others see her. There are times that she believes she is being objective, but even then she is only taking a slightly broader viewpoint in her subjectivity. She is a loyal person who never tires of her friendships, so she assumes the rest of the world feels like she does. It is the sort of shortcoming that enables her to travel unhindered down the self destructive path that others try to warn her of.

At precisely 5:30, Mae bolts out the door so that she won't have to deal with Joan's begging and pleading to join her at Hardballs. She walks briskly to the elevator, in hopes of beating the evening rush. She does catch the elevator, just as the doors are about shut. The door opens and she squeezes herself in-between the same group of women lamenting the dearth of quality footwear. The doors close and she spots Danny standing off in the corner. He sees her and they exchange smiles once more, only this time the secret desires behind the upside down frowns are less secretive.

“Have a good night.” says Mae.

“You too,” replies Danny.

The elevator doors open and everyone files out. Danny and Mae instinctively converge, walking in tandem out of the lobby. Mae thanks him for holding the door for her, and resumes her smile. Each sustain their smiles in a sort of endurance test that lasts the entire walk through the parking lot, and substitutes for conversation.

Like a sign from the heavens, Mae and Danny find their cars parked beside one another. Each of them briefly entertains the notion that the cars juxtaposition is part of some grand design. But doubt sets in just as both cars are unlocked and opened. Before getting into his piece of shit Toyota Corolla, Danny looks back at Mae, desperately looking for an excuse to not get in.
Mae becomes a statue too, smiling all the while.

“Well, have a good one.” Danny manages.

“Thanks. You too.” Mae doesn't budge. A minute that seems like sixty goes by before the first move is made.

“Are you going to Hardballs?” Danny asks.

“Are you?”

“Yes, maybe for a little bit.” Danny improvises.

“Me too.” Mae invoked the woman's prerogative privilege. Just for one drink.”

“Would you like ride with me? Seems silly to waste all that gas. Don't you think?” Danny grins, childishly is proud of his quick thinking.

“Sounds good.”

“Hop in.”

Danny hurries around to the passenger side and opens the door for her. This simple act of chivalry earns him his very first points in Mae's book.