SOME NEW KIND OF COTTON [ONE OF TWO]

My religion peeled right off and I was left with nothing to blame or look up to. It's me, myself, and I, out on the battlefield, and there's no enemy on the other side, just the destitute meadow. So why am I carrying a spear around everywhere?
I had to ask myself that eventually, because I became an absolute pain in the ass. Not only to the world at large, but also to myself. I had a way of making a complete catastrophe out of everything. Whenever I mingled with a group of people, I'd have to leave town afterwards. It was just fascinating how I was able to fuck-up any communicative attempts within a matter of seconds. For example, recently I began sitting around the porch half-dressed on the weekends, just reading and listening to music. Who knows why? I thought it was a good idea. I certainly didn't expect anyone else to mind, but I guess times have changed. There was a time when it would have been quite kosher to sit around like that, looking mysterious and untouchable. Although, that's not even what I was aiming for. I'd be the last person to think I'd have any chance of looking mysterious in my bra and jogging pants. Anyway, these days, people look over from their Sunday barbecues and are clearly annoyed. Try it sometime and you'll see what I'm talking about.
About two days ago, Nancy came over. That's Bob's wife.
"Hi," she said, smiling grotesquely and tilting her head.
"Hi."
"Hi,.. I just came over to talk to you regarding the-- the wardrobe you seem to have adopted recently."
She shifted her weight onto the other pink leg and let out a quick laugh.
"You see, we're going to have a little get together over on the lawn later-- around three, and Bob was wondering-- well, we were both wondering-- if you might be able to spend the afternoon,..inside. Or maybe, rearrange some of your articles of clothing."
"It's a free country, Nancy."
"Yes, I know that, but, it--"
"But what?"
"I just thought it would be a nice gesture."
"What would?"
"If you would do that one little favor for us."
"Nancy, what if I develop a phobia of your wardrobe one day? Can I come over and tell you to wear less pink? And what if I don't like Bob's ties? Do you see me coming over and telling you all to find different patterned socks, because I have a few guests who'll be standing around the lawn with glasses of punch in the afternoon, and one of them might happen to look over?"
Her face had frozen in shock.
It was then that I realized I was fighting for a lost cause again. Why do I bother? This pathetic sausage with her white shorts that struggled in vain to preserve some decency around the butt area was just doing her duty as a member of the human race. Who am I to point the way?
I decided to try and be constructive.
"Why don't you have your little 'thing' in the backyard?"
"Well, we just can't do that," she stammered. "It wouldn't be right. We always use the front lawn."
"Look, I'm trying to be helpful here. Can we at least meet halfway?"
She was dumbfounded. "Well, it's just that Bob--"
"Oh please. Fuck Bob. If Bob has an issue with this then send him over here to explain it, because it's obvious that you don't know what in the world you're wasting your breath and all those spit droplets on."
We shared a moment of silence. Nancy was trying to understand what I had just said, and I guess so was I. And then I realized that she hadn't even noticed my unwise use of the "F" word yet-- which was to a great advantage, because you really don't want to use that word in the neighborhood on a Sunday morning. People get sued for things like that.
"Well, anyway," I said with a laugh, before her thoughts could roll. "Everyone's entitled to have a little 'thing' when they want to, right?"
She nodded slowly.
"Right, so I'm obviously not going to make a big fuss here. You just go ahead and have your 'thing'-- invite your people and have fun standing around for a few hours and everything, and I'll just watch the news. Ok? And say hi to Bob for me."
"Oh," she stammered. A smile broke out on her face, and I began to be seriously alarmed. "Oh, that's so-- so nice of you!"
"Yes, well--"
"Why don't you come over and join us at three? We'd love to have you. Bob and I really would like that. After all, we know your brother so well, and now that he's gone and we're neighbors for the moment, we should get to know each other. We've hardly ever talked. I think this would be a neat time to really get to know each other!"
If I had known I was going to acquire a best friend just by not being a complete prick, I'd have stayed an asshole from the beginning. Now it was too late. I had already messed everything up far beyond the doctor's good will, and found myself in a grave situation. Nancy had won the porch-battle, and I stood around, armed to the teeth and with nowhere to go.
"Well, Nancy, that's just, really, neat," I said.
A few moments later I stood in my bathroom, pale and bewildered. What on Earth was I going to do on Nancy and Bob's lawn with a horde of relaxing citizens? What the hell would I say to them? Would they tell jokes? Would I understand them?
I raced over to my wardrobe and pulled out every pastel colored article of clothing I could find. It was absolutely necessary not to offend the neighbors, because, if you have to know the truth-- I was living in my brother's house while he was off skiing with his girlfriend. He was some kind of a doctor, and if I attached any weird meaning to the family name while he was gone, that would be it for eternity. Financially. Of course, I didn't realize any of this until I'd already chopped Nancy to bits and was about to put her into some kind of Tupperware to store in the fridge. Then I realized it, made an attempt to put her back together again, and ended up being invited to meet the neighbors.
I opened my door and looked over at the group of people standing in various clusters around the front yard, laughing, leaning in to listen to gossip, nodding, holding plastic cups, asking where the bathroom is, looking serious and concentrated while monologues were being performed. What I was going to do over there was about as vague as my birth. I was wearing my brother's girlfriend's turquoise, pregnancy dress with little ducks on it. I looked somewhat like a little cone-shaped sack. And that's how I made my way across the street to join modern society.
CLICK HERE TO READ PART TWO OF SOME NEW KIND OF COTTON.