"I keep thinking about how Davie Hogan's story worked because it wasn't just about revenge - it was about someone finding their own way to reclaim their dignity. That's universal." #WritingAdvice #StandByMe
The man continued to pace around the lobby, looking both serious and anxious. To most people, he probably looked like he was just nitpicking the little things. To you, you knew he was just making sure everything was perfect.
“I am calm,” he said as he went over to examine one of the caterers set up a table of food. “Are all of these properly labeled? We do have guests with food allergies. There can’t be any cross-contamination.”
“Yes, sir,” the caterer said, offering a kind smile that was not met. “Absolutely everything has handled according to OSHA standards. There has been no cross-contamination at all. In fact, all of our allergen-free foods were prepared first, transported separately, and will be put on a different table.” He pointed down the length of the room where another table sat empty. “That’s where the allergen-free food will go.”
Emitt frowned but nodded anyway. “Fine. Just make sure nothing get mishandled.”
“Of course.”
Before you could even thank the caterer, Emitt had moved on. You chased after him with your clipboard in hand.
“Emitt, would you please wait?”
He didn’t stop until he reached the dining tables, each one decorated with a white tablecloth, crystal glasses, and china plates. The silverware had been polished and was gleaming coldly in the overhead lights. He picked up a fork and examined it.
“These are fine,” he said, which was an indication that you could check it off of your list. You did so. He took off again and you followed close on his heels. He wasn’t even going to any particular place now, he was just going around the ballroom, looking for things to find fault in.
Maybe he was nitpicking.
Finally, you caught up with him and grabbed his arm, spinning him around.
“Emitt, you need to calm down. Seriously.”
He looked at you, dark eyes cool and distant. Suddenly, they seemed to come back to you, warming, softening. He nodded and reached out to rub your upper arms.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that this is the biggest event of the year. Or end of the year. And I want it to be–”
“Perfect. I know. And it will be. Honestly, people come here to drink and party. Do you think they’ll really be throwing a fit because the tablecloths were the wrong shade of white?”
“Some of them might. Letitia Anderson would.”
“You’re right, she would. But she’s not even RSVP’d for tonight. She’s going to a party at The Bonner. You’ve covered all the essentials, the things that really matter – security, food safety, and cleanliness. Everything else is frosting.”
“Frosting?”
“You know, frosting on a cake? It’s just extra. Sure, it tastes good, but a cake is still a cake with or without frosting. It’s not necessary.”
“But–”
“But nothing, Emitt. It’s just a party. Just like how last year was just a party, and next year will be just a party. I promise you, this is not worth giving yourself an aneurysm over.” You reached out one hand and placed it on his chest.
You two had been dating for a few years now, and you’d been working as his party planner for almost as long, but you tried to keep away from PDA while at work. Now seemed like a fine time to comfort him, though, and remind him of what was truly important.
“You’re right,” he finally said. “I’m just a perfectionist.”
“I know you are. That’s why you’re good at your job. It’s also why you have to see a masseuse three times a week, and are on blood pressure meds.” You glanced around quickly, saw no one was near you, and rose up to kiss Emitt on the lips. “It’s just a party.”
“I know. It’s just a party.” He leaned down and kissed you again, this time a bit longer. “How about we go take a break before the guests arrive?”
“If you promise it’s an actual break. You should take a nap.”
He shook his head but kissed your forehead. “We’ll see.”
Well ... I'd never recommend testing ignition coils with jumper cables and a car battery! That's a good way to turn yourself into a crispy critter. And using moonshine as electrical contact cleaner? Yep, high-proof alcohol can work as a solvent, but there are much safer (and legal) options at the parts store. 🔧 🛠️
"This poem reads like a love letter to human messiness—we're all just beautiful glitches in the code, running on algorithms of choice and mistake, existing in fragments between what we type and what we mean. The formatting itself becomes the feeling. ✨ #poetry"
