Flamespotting
by Jennifer Iannolo
No, this is not the story of a fag-hag. That genre has been utterly worn out here on SOLO. Instead, it is the story of my life’s mission.
I am a seeker of the spark in others — that magnificent, radiant quality known as competence. One can sense it immediately in the bright eyes, the efficient movements, the simple grace possessed by one who is a master of his environment.
I am vigilant in the pursuit of such beings, as they too often flit by in a state of hurried productiveness. Sometimes I have to grab them by the arm and shout, “Wait! I am a kindred spirit! Share a moment with me, please!” Their presence is too precious to let slip by.
Though I sometimes find them in unexpected places, the immediate impression I get is always the same: this person will understand me. Such beauty can be seen in the mechanic who meticulously checks my car for that noise I can only describe with verbal demonstrations of “clang-grr-ehhh-phhht-clunk.” Or in the gentle, intelligent soul at the supermarket who can see I have organized my groceries by category for simple packing and putting away, and who will not put cans of coconut milk on top of my delicate wheat bread.
It is easy for me to become enraptured when I open a box that has been carefully packed to ensure the safe delivery of my products, or when I discover a vase of flowers left in an upright position on my back porch, rather than strewn across my front lawn. Yes, that really happened.
Since displays of competence are so rare, I cannot help but to gush at such individuals. They probably think I’m mental. But this helps me to heal from the torture of the Dell technician who accidentally instructed me to press “erase” for my hard drive instead of “repair.” Yes, that really happened.
I am overjoyed at the diligence of a dry cleaner who will personally deliver my suit to my house because it was accidentally given to the wrong person. This makes up for the other dry cleaner who would not allow me to enter her shop doors at 5:01 PM to get the suits I needed for a business trip to Paris. The next morning. That really happened too.
But I press onward, because I cannot lose my idealism that some day I will have the perfect combination of competent people around me, covering all facets of my life. Then I can stop manicuring my own hands, refinishing my own furniture, mowing my own lawn, and doing my own laundry. I can simply pay them to do it.
Do I ask too much? Perhaps. But a girl can dream.
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