CRISPY MAKES A PROMISE THAT HE VOWS TO KEEP, BUT, ALAS...

I PROMISED MYSELF THAT I WOULD NOT WRITE ANYTHING at all until something extraordinary happened that needed to be documented.

No sooner had I had that promise then I saw a woman walking down the boulevard dressed in gold from head to toe. Even her lips were gold! On a leash she brandished one could see a fearsome jungle cat–either a cheetah or an ocelot–isn’t an ocelot the smaller of the two? I have never been to South America or India so perhaps you shouldn’t ask me about ocelots or cheetahs. It was possibly an ocelot, now that I think about it–bathed in golden light, as was she. Everything about her was gold except the little bells on her pumps. They tinkled softly when she walked, and they were silver, and stood in stark relief next to what was probably an ocelot. But you could tell that they wanted to be gold, and wanted to tinkle more loudly, and a little more proudly–I could see them doing that.

The ocelot purred jealously as the golden woman of gold licked luxuriously her ice cream cone–a sort of golden vanilla with creamy golden jimmies on top. Ocelots are not easily domesticated, and are often ravenously hungry and can be quite jealous in fact! And yet, bathed in a golden light, it was clear that she was in control of the beast, despite his ravenous nature. Falling in love with a powerful woman like this could be as easy as pie!

What else transpired, you ask? Was it a sunny day? Did people stop and stare? Did the feisty ocelot break her golden leash (since gold is a soft metal) and run into the nearby Himalayas? Did I have the nerve to approach her? Did I fear that I could only live a life with her if I, too, were gold? “It is not meant to be”–Did I say that? Did golden tear drops fall from her eyes as she walked away, splashing upon the silver bells of her pumps, causing them to tarnish, because that’s unfortunately what happens to silver?

Perhaps one day if I meet an alluring woman of gold with an ocelot and a golden ice cream cone I will tell you what happens. I know that you will find it riveting! Until then, the point is: it’s very difficult sometimes to wait for something extraordinary to happen so that you can write about it. I know–I’ve tried. Honestly, I’ve tried many times.