Each of my three wives had the floors redone. Tina, the first one, booked us on a cruise, 
and when we returned there was nothing to walk on. The worker had fallen through a dumbwaiter.  
Six months later, I was at The Last Chance seeing Buster Poindexter. My friend asked someone her 
name, and she said Tina. I hate that name, I thought, and as I thought it I said it out loud.

This second Tina had new pine replaced with an old high-school basketball court. We stayed 
at a motel and watched semi-dirty movies, then moved into her brother's boat. I dreamed I 
sank to the floor of the ocean but couldn't quite touch.

The final Tina had all the carpeting and tile removed and the concrete underneath patched, painted, 
and polyurethaned. She scheduled me for a week of Vipasana, silent meditation for 12 hours a day. 
I stared at my third eye and lost my ability to distinguish between ceiling and floor.


© 2004 by Steve Price. All rights reserved.