since coming back to california i have been utterly unable to write anything. i think it’s because upon returning i am suddenly seized with a strange uncertainty about how to position myself in relation to my surroundings. feelings of deep familiarity are inextricable with those of foreignness.
at the dentist, today: i’ve been going to her since i was a child, but i still don’t know the names of her children, and i still need to use google maps to get to her office. but when i walk in her secretary looks at me with a familiar and kindly smile, greeting me by name. i can only smile back. while my dentist cleans my teeth, she asks me about china, about inequality, vents about trump. and all this i talk about easily, feeling suddenly and disproportionately literate.
when i leave, i decide to get my car washed. i use the search function on maps to find one on my way home. when i get there, i pull into the wrong line a few times–the one for waxing, the one for interior washes–but i still i insist on sitting in the car myself instead of giving them the keys and waiting in the shade with everyone else, because the car wash itself was one of my favorite things as a kid.
first, the foam spray. the spinning, heavy strips of fabric hitting the windows with a thundering sound. making their way around the sides and closing in around the back. the water falling in sheets, the daylight filtering dimly in. i always liked the feeling of sudden secrecy in public places–like when i would hide in the clothing racks at talbots while my mother shopped, sweaters brushing against my face as she flipped through them.
the spinning strips of fabric pull away from the car, and the flow of water slows. the sudden boom of the dryer turning on. water drops race across the windshield and down the sides, and a hole of vision appears in the midst of the rippling water.
i see a man standing by the exit, but he makes no move towards me. i get out of the car and unfold my side-view mirrors. am i supposed to tip? i think of all the times i didn’t because i didn’t have small bills and walk up to him and give him the dollar i had pulled out of my wallet earlier. after which i’m prepared to drive away, but he walks over and begins haphazardly wiping down my car with a rag.
after he finishes, i thank him and restart the navigation to the address i’ve called home my entire life. maps tells me i have about a mile to go.
hog maw 