In A Hazy Rush

I went to the movie Slumdog Millionaire. I sat in the front row. If you've seen it you know that it's pretty intense as far as screen movement, crowd scenes, excitement, everything being a rush.

Early on I was regretting being in the front row, but I think it looks stupid for people to always be moving about in the theater, so I settled in and let the film rush over me. That's an intense experience in and of itself.

I loved the movie, but my eyes and brain still haven't caught up to normal life. I'm sure my dreams tonight will be fanciful. I'll be in bed within 20 minutes.

When I came out everything had changed about the weather. It was colder and it was very very foggy. It was clear a while ago. And I still had to go to the grocery store and get milk. I was thinking while driving along that I might run over someone, it's so foggy. Hope not of course.

At the grocery store I'm noticing every strange detail. It's like one of those times when you're in a haze. Someone might grab me from behind and pull me into a field. I'm thinking of the movie. There's a big guy with baggy pants in front of me. There's a guy with a cartful of groceries but he's not exactly in line. Candy bars are smaller than they used to be but more expensive. There's a lady with a bottle of liquor asking if "You all have Red Bull?" The checkout girl looks scared and says, "I don't know what that is." No smile, no helpfulness. Outside I got a chill and thought about someone jumping me. But I unlocked the car and got going, and pulled on my seatbelt as I went through the foggy parking lot. I don't want to run over someone and forever associate seeing this movie with someone's death in the fog. It doesn't happen.