Light My Fire - Blog Off

There are some things I do not enjoy doing. One of them is spending hours upon hours in a Casino. The other is doing dishes.

My parents on the other hand – as shocking as this is to say – love it, going to the Casino that is. They hired maid to help with the dishes.

I consider their admiration for the Casino a generation gap, they think I am weriod. I revert to the first part of that statement.

Being the supportive, open minded person I am I will, on occasion, totle along with them to their favourite places to lose cash in the name of entertainment. Apparently it fun. However, if I am there longer than two hours I not only start to go buggy I also start to look for places to hide.

One night I chose to depart from the world of clanging machines and headed into the ladies washroom. I was desparate.

Hiding in the stall I was happily playing Bejewelled on my cell phone. It didn’t cost me a thing, my score was outstanding, and I was at peace. Or so I thought.

All of a sudden I could hear this poor woman sobbing. Awkward.

I was naturally concerned for my fellow washroom mate. Clearly something was wrong. Then my brain went into overdrive... Oh my gosh maybe someone has died – or maybe she’s lost all her money... or....

Then there was a voice.

A friend of the poor heartbroken woman stepped in, “There, there dear... he doesn’t love her, he loves you. I am telling he LOVES you."

The sobbing gets louder.

I go cross-eyed. Lord it is all about a boy.

The exchange went back and forth between the two women but the bottom line was the lady in distress was upset because she thought her man was after another woman or something like that.

And, there I am bearing silent witness to a love triangle in the lady’s washroom at the Casino. Great. Punishment I swear. I also secrectly believe that my mother probably sent them in there.

After listening to the dramarama for about 10 minutes I decided it was better to go and gamble. Leaving my hiding space I turned to wash my hands and there before me were the two women. One sobbing with her face buried into hands, the other lovingly holding her up. They were both well into their 80’s. As in years not the decade.

I never did wash hands. I walked away as fast as I could with one voice screaming inside my head... “Oh my God the relationship drama never ends! We never really grow up! AAAhhhhh!”

Every time I think of that moment in my not so glamorous gambling career I feel a great deal of compassion for that lady. 

I also feel a great deal of resolve for myself. 

Even though I am far from perfect and that my own dating track record could vastly use some improvement the one thing I know for sure is my own spark. It took a long time to find it and one heck of a pile of work. The truth is no one can light your fire for you - only you determine how bright or dim it is going to be.  

ThInQ About It.

Now what about those dishes?

Be sure to scroll down and read what Kai has written in her portion of this Blog Off and enjoy the The Doors Light My Fire as posted on YouTube.