Last week I went to Prince Albert's Saturday market. A small, lifeless market that almost made me want to go to the local cemetery just to cheer myself up. When we heard it opened, the first time since the Coronavirus lockdown started in March, we were excited. We arrived early in the morning, and the excitement immediately subsided as we saw five stalls offering almost nothing, and less than ten people standing around chatting. Still, we entered—what a mistake.
We bumped into a friend named Robert. We had a fascinating conversation about pancakes that are usually offered there, but apparently not today. We decided to make a quick retreat, and before we left, Robert asked, "If you see Karen, please give her my love."
I don't like being exploited like that. Why do I need the heavy responsibility of bearing Robert's love for Karen? Yet I agreed because, on the day I was born, I was cursed with a good heart. Yet with the best of intentions, I hadn't seen Karen for days. I didn't know what to do with Robert's love. I was afraid I'd have to carry it everywhere.
So I decided to give it to someone else.
"Kathryn, I can't find Karen, here's some of Robert's love."
Kathryn, of course, agreed to accept Robert's love. She didn't know him but assumed that it was still legal on her part to accept his love since it had no buyers.
This wasn't the right decision. Two days later, I met Karen. I didn't know what to give her. All I had was Robert's love, and I'd already given it away to Kathryn.
I considered giving her my love instead, but people usually don't accept your love unless it's delivered through someone else. I also thought of asking Kathryn to return Robert's love to Karen, but what if she's already gotten used to it?
Before I could decide what to do, Karen asked me to give Jeremy her love. Now I'd become a character of an O. Henry story, only without the witty prose. When the chain of pleasantries begins, who knows where it could end.
But indeed, I met Jeremy later that day. However, I waited until the last minute before deciding if he deserved to receive what was sent. Sometimes the person just doesn't deserve it. I didn't feel Jeremy was worthy of love. Jeremy annoys me. Maybe I think he deserves only a simple "hello".
But he went ahead and anticipated what, if at all, he ought to get.
"Did Karen sent her love?"
"No, Jeremy, she didn't. Just her regards." I lied.
"That's strange. Usually, she sends her love."
"Well, not this time. Actually, she specifically asked not to give Jeremy any love. She is short on love and needs to monitor who she's giving it to. But she has a lot of regards, and she wants you to have a few. Be satisfied with that, Jeremy, take your regards and stop annoying me."
And he should be satisfied with regards. It's better than getting all the best. Some people just send all the best. They don't even explain, the fuckers. All the best what, the best nothing? If that's their best, they should keep it to themselves.
But Jeremy did worse. Before we parted, he said, "I haven't seen Nadia in ages, tell her Jeremy says hi."
This is the lowest. Hardly worth handing over to poor Nadia.
"Nadia, Jeremy says hi."
And what will happen next?
Will Nadia say hi back? This is the beginning of a conversation. Will an entire dialogue develop here with me in the middle, delivering sequences between them like a shuttlecock?
But I breathed deep, and my good heart and I delivered the "hi". At least he didn't ask me to send a hug and a kiss. These are a real load.
