All That Jazz
by Greg Razran
Friday, February 25, 2005
Rated "R" by the Author.
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Waiting in line to get out of the Kings Plaza parking garage, daydreaming and thinking if a ten I had on me would be enough, I suddenly felt a bump from the back. The hit was gentle, almost polite, so it took me a second to wrap my mind around what had happened. The next moment, I felt rage boiling up inside of me, and almost got scared. I got out of the car, slamming the door, partially because I was pissed, but also because, on some level, I felt that the situation called for it. Protocol. A blue, early 90’s Mazda looked like it was attached to my bumper. It pulled back, as if letting me survey the damage. To my surprise, there was barely a scratch.
I finally looked into the other car. A tall, skinny, pleasant-looking black man in a black overcoat and a woman I took to be his wife got out. I gave them a dirty look, again, because I thought I should, not because I wanted to. “I’m sorry” he finally said, “I just dropped some change on the floor and bent down to pick it up.” “I wasn’t paying attention.” I was still angry and said “I’m still calling the cops,” even though I wasn’t sure I would. “Please sir; there’s nothing on your car,” the lady said, apologetically, “don’t call.” I felt shitty for saying what I said. I looked closer at the man, and there was something about him that made me think that he was a jazz musician. It was the strangest thing; I had no idea why I was convinced of it. May be it was his fingers, long and lean. I just kept picturing him in a smoke-filled club, playing the sax.
The next minute, all of my rage had vanished. “All right; don’t worry about it,” I said to him and stuck out my right hand, impulsively. He shook it, and they said “thanks” at the same time. A white, rent-a-cop Explorer pulled up alongside us, flashing the disco-like red lights on its roof. “There’s no problem; we’re all set,” I told the dude, with a smile, before he could even finish getting out of the jeep. He pulled away, no longer flashing.
I got back into my car, feeling really good; almost happy I got hit to begin with. I looked in my rear view mirror, as I drove off. The couple still sat there, as if waiting for me to be safely out of wrecking range; out of their lives forever.
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|Reviewed by Sylvia Thompson
|Cool write,a well expressed story about the inexplicable emotional
undercurrents we all experience at times.Well done.
|Reviewed by c patrick durkin
|As usual, your poetry of place and time transcends both genre and inhibition. Great stuff.|
|Reviewed by jude forese
|well written but far from a poem/prose ...|
|Reviewed by Judy Lloyd (Reader)
|You know sometimes a soft answer does turn anger and I have been in a situation like this. I have a sign on my jewelry case about if you break you buy. One day an elderly black lady's leg went out from her and the cane hit an item and it broke. But she fell and she was so horrified that she had broken something. Yet I told her it was an accident and would not think of taking any money from her. Because the sign was for the ones that intentionally do something. And the item was only a quarter. She came back another day and bought right much jewelry from me.|
|Reviewed by Tracey L. O' Very (Reader)
|This is a really nice poem I especially like the way you said I reacted because that's the way I "thought" I should do. And the sense that you picked up from them in your not really being that upset to feel the reality of them and the situation. Very good message in this!!!! Stay calm! You may just meet someone really special! And the ending was great!! out of wrecking range!
Thanks Have a Great day Every day!
|Reviewed by Aberjhani
|A very interesting read. Enjoyed the clear contrasts of emotional tension and the skillful transition from conflict to an uneasy resolution of the same. I couldn't help thinking upon reading the last line of the prose poem(?) that the couple's intention may have been something other than cynical as seemingly implied. Call me a romantic but I like the notion of Jazz Angels having secretly performed a mission under the guise of having an accident. In any event, I enjoyed reading this.|