Sharing the same brain...
Entry posted by Barron von Hammer
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We were getting up to leave, my comrades and I, from one of the few restaurants that stayed open at a diabolical hour late that Friday evening, when I heard my name being called with great enthusiasm.
Looking up, I noticed several individuals making their way with great excitement to where I was seated. It was then that I recognized two of them, the apparent ringleaders of an approaching bevy of beauties that seemed to be in possession of some illustrious secret, as evident by their exclamations of joy concerning whatever subject matter was at hand. They conversed in hushed tones punctuated with high-pitched squeals, reminiscent to what one hears when you back your car over a fat person.
The two individuals were sisters and have been friends of mine for some time; in fact I briefly dated the older one several years ago, a tortuous and confused relationship whose memory resonates within me a similarity to those testimonials and first hand accounts one usually associates with victims of the Khmer Rouge.
For the purposes of this account, let us refer to these two women as "Rene" and "Erica." Both are attractive and have at times used their physical beauty to their advantage, though not always successfully. Both are (somewhat) in command of their mental faculties; one is simple-minded and the other reasonably intelligent, though it is hard to tell the difference unless someone hands them each a yo-yo.
After exchanging salutations, the girls told me of their acquisition of yet another in a long series of tattoos, a topic rivaling "moss formations" for my attention span. This time though, instead of the usual adornment of pop cultural icons or some other clichéd visual image, they had received a very different tattoo, one that had placed them (at least in their thinking) on a higher intellectual plain.
Normally, they know that the simple acquisition of a tattoo would not interest me in the slightest, but there was a tenuous link between the images (that all of them had collectively and permanently put on their wrists) and me, or so they thought. They had decided to get a tattoo of the symbol that represents the concept of infinity. For those unfamiliar, it looks like a horizontal number eight.
However, on this particular night the muse was upon them and they decided to stretch the boundaries of science by completing this odd imprint with what appeared to them as an earth shattering revelation; thus the captured images via cell phone below.
They proudly informed me that their newly adorned tattoo was defined as "infinity times infinity." There was silence as I contemplated what was surely one of the unmistakable signs of the decline of Western civilization. They told me that I could (somehow) identify with this tattoo in that I had an ambient electronic music show that featured ethereal and surreal music; therefore it only reasons that I would find this tattoo attractive. I did, in fact, find the tattoo, represented on four separate wrists thrust in my direction with sleeves rolled up, mesmerizing; but not quite for the reasons desired by my inked comrades.
As my astonishment receded, I quietly and with as much self control one could muster under the circumstances, asked exactly what this meant. It was then explained to me in the following manner.
"Well, you know how infinity is supposed to stretch forever?'
I replied that I was indeed aware of the definition of infinity.
"Well now it is twice as long!"
Eyes glistening, they were smug in their revelation. Until of course I broke the spell.
"Girls, how can something that is supposed to last forever be twice as long?"
There was silence as cogs and wheels turned around me and then stopped. Their eyes suddenly became vacant, a vacuous abyss that slowly sucked in their fragile world. Erika slowly turned her wrist 180 degrees so it no longer faced me. Rene began blinking furiously and continued her long held penchant of reciting the names of planets when confused by a cerebral dilemma. Stares were exchanged but alas, the muse had left (or rather simply died). One of the four drew her wristwatch discreetly over the aforementioned image, replacing the infinity symbol with the simple device that kept pace with the temporal world as she knew it.
Somewhere in the distance the clinking of dishes, pots and pans, enveloped within the ambient noise of the eatery's kitchen interceded on their behalf, and a waitress asked them if they would like to be seated.
I love those two girls as if they were my very own (highly) retarded sisters.
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