I been in jail in Chattanooga

10.06.2008

Ian just bought a new mattress and the store could only deliver it during work hours, so I volunteered to be at the apartment when it arrived. They only sent one guy, and I'm sick right now, but somehow we managed to lug it up together.

"So where you from?" he asks me. He has already lingered too long. Apparently, he's feeling chatty.
"Chattanooga," I say.
"I know Chattanooga. I been in jail in Chattanooga."
"Oh," I edge towards the door. "Isn't that interesting."
"Not that it was my fault. I mean, it was my fault, but you know."

I don't know, but I don't let on. He tells me that a cop was being aggressive (not quite the way he put it) and he decided to be aggressive back. I have already said thanks and shook his hand three times. So now I nod and slowly start to close the door.

"But I don't take that kind of treatment and hired a lawyer that costs one thousand dollars an hour."
"Good for you," I say. The door is almost closed but he moves towards me.
"I just love your accent." He's got an arm the door way, looking at me.
I want to say, So does my big, big muscular boyfriend. He's just crazy about my accent. Instead I stick my hand out one more time, say, "Thanks. You have a good day," smile and close the door.