yesterday i saw kathy. "i need help," i said. "there's something i'd like to crochet but i really don't know how. can you teach me?"
kathy sighed laboriously, as though i had asked her to carry my mortgage for a few months. "fine," she snapped. we walked to rosie's yarn cellar and kathy bought some extra crochet hooks, so my failure would not have to mar her own personal tools.
we found a seat in the park, and kathy looked at the pattern i wished to work on. "god, this is ugly," said kathy, "but at least it's easy. you'd have to be missing your cortex not to be able to crochet this."
i got out the yarn i had brought. kathy handed me the hook. "make some stitches," she said. "i'm not going to do it for you."
i chained a few, excited to have begun my first real crochet lesson. some children skipped by with their nanny, blowing soap bubbles. kathy stepped on them.
"is it finished yet?" she snapped at me. "are we leaving now?"
"i don't think i understand exactly how to get started," i said.
she grabbed the pattern from my hands. "honestly," she said, "we are going to be here all night at this rate."
an old man walked by, with a bag of breadcrumbs for the pigeons. kathy kicked the old man, and ate the breadcrumbs in the bag. "now," she said. "i am going to show you this once. if you don't get it then, it isn't my problem."
with her back to me, she made some movements with her arms. "here," she said, turning back to me and handing me a wad of knotted yarn. "at this point, i've practically done the whole thing for you. can't you at least try to understand my instructions?"
a little bird with a broken wing hopped bravely by. kathy mugged him. i sat staring at what appeared to be a completely random set of loops and knots, afraid to move or speak.
(actually, kathy, it's not going all that well... i may need a book or something.)