Hearing Voices

I got home not remembering how I did, and immediately went to my computer to report to my online friend, NCChick. She had a real name, but I always referred to her by her screen name when I talked to her to my flesh and blood friends. I had more online friends than flesh and blood friends at that point. They were easier to deal with. NCCChick was always online, gleaming on my Buddy List. The communication was non-confrontational. I could pour my heart out without being embarrassed, and I did not have to worry if I smelled. She was closer to me than the diary I started in sixth grade.

I parked myself in front of my computer, and pulled up the bridge chair. I was still buzzed from the beer, the pot, and the excitement. This was the real thing. I was convinced. When was I supposed to see her next? Wednesday? I had to check my calendar, but first things first. I owed a report to NCChick because after all it was she that had advised me to check into Brenda, Ida’s boss, when Ida and I were going nowhere.

As I waited for America Online to log on, my cat, Bozo, was squeaking wildly. She crept up at my feet and was meowing incessantly. Sensing she needed attention, I pet her but she just continued. I finally got onto America Online, and there in my buddy list was NCChick. Yes, there is a God. I was not alone. I was connected. Someone was actually there for me—a veritable guardian angel. I quickly sent an Instant Message to NCChick but was at a loss for words.

“It was unbelievable,” I wrote to NCChick. NCChick and I did not have to do any explaining. I knew she knew what I was talking about. “There are no words...where do I begin?” I wrote.

Bozo started standing on her hind legs and waving her paws. She had never done that before. She had done little other than eat, sleep, self-groom, and snuggle up to me. I was ready to sign her up for a gig on David Letterman’s stupid pet tricks. The more I wrote, the more Bozo danced on her hind feet. I could feel the adrenaline rush of retelling the date in stream of consciousness fragments to the response of “Holy shit!”, “Wow!”, “That’s unbelievable!” Only when she wrote back, “I’m so happy for you” did I know I was doomed.