Silence of the Lick

This weekend I stayed over at Neighbor J's house while Nordic Boy ripped my bathroom out and put it back together again, all shiny-like. In preparing to go over to Neighbor J's house, I packed some clothes, my laptop, and a book or two, but that's it. I didn't feel the need to take much more with me, because when I am around Neighbor J, I don't really need much to occupy my time. This is because she falls into that category of friendships that can only be described as Two Motormouths Gone Wild.

You see, Neighbor J and I can TALK. And I mean Chatty Cathy, non-stop, take-a-breath-for-God's-sake talk. When we really get going, we refer to ourselves as Statler and Waldorf, because it is like a running commentary on any and all topics under the sun. We have joked that she and I could have a talk show that wouldn't require any guests, because they wouldn't be able to get a word in edgewise anyway. We have something to say about EVERYTHING. Politics, current events, gossip, family stories, work anecdotes, minutiae, it all gets mixed in to one big gooey conversation, and it is delicious. There are some people that just connect this way, who find each other infinitely interesting, and she and I have had this connection ever since we've known each other. When she used to live next door to me, both of us had to purchase headset phones because otherwise we would never get a damn thing done around the house. We would come home, dial up the other person, and talk our way through making dinner, or doing laundry, or washing dishes. There have been times when I have gotten off the phone with her and my ear hurts from being on it for too long and I have a sore throat from gab-itis.

So this weekend has been one long bout of (as we used to say in middle school) diarrhea of the mouth. We woke up in the morning, and the starting gun went off. We both walked out of our bedrooms and were in a full-fledged conversation by the time we reached the kitchen. We talked through breakfast, we talked as we both got ready for the day (yelling at each other through the bathroom door), we talked as she stretched her sore hamstring on the floor and I checked my email. The talking ranged from me putting my head down on the table and misting up while talking about something serious to both of us laughing ourselves silly because Neighbor J got down on the floor and dragged herself across it with her hands, yelling "It's a Celebration, Bitches!" a la Chappelle as Rick James in Charlie Murphy's True Hollywood Stories. We run the full spectrum of talking points, people.

In the afternoon we decided to go over to Macy's. As we browsed the clothes and tried stuff on, the blah-blah-blah continued non-stop. There are no pauses. How can I talk this much to another person, how? When I go to parties and stuff, I'm not usually the chattiest person in the room. Far from it. I am actually known as more of a listener, an observer, and a person who knows when to shut up. I am amazed at the sheer quantity of words that I have spoken in one day.

As we wrapped up our time in Macy's, we walked back over to the escalator so we could make our way to the parking lot. We rounded the corner and stepped onto the escalator, still flapping our gums about our hope for the return of the full-length caftan. As we talked, my eyes looked down to the bottom of the escalator. What I saw made me stop in mid-sentence. "Oh!Oh!Oh!" was all I could muster in a panicked sort of tone. Neighbor J followed my gaze down to the bottom of the escalator. Standing there, watching us come down, was a little boy, about 7 years old, seemingly unattended. He stood facing us, slightly bent over in front of the left handrail of the escalator. He had his mouth open as wide as it would go, with his tongue
completely unfurled. He had laid the flat part of his tongue ONTO THE MOVING HANDRAIL, giving it a long, continuous lick as it fed back into the escalator to go back up to the top. Neighbor J and I stopped our marathon conversation dead, and watched this germ-fest in silence for the loooooong ride down to the first floor. This kid's open mouth was finally the thing that shut ours. It was grosser than gross. I think this was the universe's way of telling us to shut the hell up for ten
seconds. Statler and Waldorf silenced. Out of the mouths of babes.

Kiss the rings, I'm out.
Librarian Girl