The Penny

25 Jun

1976-lincoln-penny

I found an old penny on the table this morning. Before I went to toss it in my Yuban coffee can of old change, I had a premonition. If this penny was from the year of my birth, then…

I looked.

It was.

Then what? Is today the day I die? Will I go to hell? Is today the day I meet my future wife? Do I finish my novel today over lunch break? What happens? Is my child I don’t know about born today? How long ago was I in Philippines? THEN WHAT?

Now what.

This happens all the time. I think if I turn the channel on the radio and a certain song is playing…. and what’s implied is some evil supernatural thing. Satan coming for me. Claiming me. For what. Or it’s my mother’s death. I’d been thinking about her. More specifically I thought about her once. Had some mental picture of her smiling for an instant while I thought about my father, who’s dead. I better see her, I thought. Yesterday I did. Then today…

The penny. The year she gave birth to me.

Now as I write this, a girl– for once– walks by in the park. With her dog. Is she my future wife? I call the dog over to the mulch pile.

It ignores me.

Is today the day my cancer forms? What is it?

Before I turn the channel on the radio, I get a premonition that if a certain song is on the new channel… and I’m afraid to think what comes next. I turn it and it’s that song. To be fair it’s never “Stevie’s Spanking” by Frank Zappa or some shit. My panic attacks about demonic torture come from Fleetwood Mac. Hell is mainstream.

But… what if it’s real

What does it mean.

What are the odds. How many years are there pennies. How many of each in circulation. What are the odds that a random penny you pick up: 1976. But then… did I find a 1976 penny, think “the year of my birth,” and keep the penny on my table? Not throw it in the Yuban coffee can? Forget this?

Maybe.

But I had that feeling. If I look at this coin and it’s the year of my birth… some portent of something. Something significant and bad. When I have this feeling it’s death or hell. Never the suitcase with $10 million.

Did I keep the 1976 penny months ago or years ago and then it got pushed out from under some old receipts when I moved stuff around to put down my stepfather’s birthday cake. That’s probably it. Or it’s Satan who will turn my car over and eat my skin in flames this morning. One of the two.

Should I call in sick from work? What will I do though, fucking play Xbox?

8 Responses to “The Penny”

  1. My 2 Cents June 25, 2018 at 5:25 pm #

    Use it to scratch off a Lottery ticket.

  2. dickycone June 25, 2018 at 8:02 pm #

    Once in a while you talk about maybe meeting your future wife. As a guy around your age who’s had maybe 100x fewer women than you and yet is sitting here right now at home with his loyal, lovely wife and adorable baby daughter and has another on the way in a few months, I have to ask: are you one of those people who believes in “the one”? If you are, I suggest you stop doing that. My wife is an angel most of the time and I’m far happier now than almost ever before and what’s more, I feel “fulfilled” now, as corny as that sounds. Nevertheless, in hindsight I can think of other specific women from my past I could have also married and been happy with. One I didn’t go for because I used to have this ridiculous notion that my wife had to be “intellectual.” Another because she had a boyfriend from whom she practically begged me to steal her, which I stupidly declined to do. Another because my friends convinced me she was boring and lame, which she was but in exactly the same way I am and looking back I realize that we could have been very happy together. And so on.

    If you really want a wife and a family, just do it next time you’re with someone who’d be a good match. On the other hand, recognizing that when you have it is easier said than done. Still, if you want it, go for it.

  3. Nikolai Vladivostok June 26, 2018 at 8:37 am #

    Someone’s fucking with your head. It’s me. I’m sniggering behind your couch right now. Go check. You’ll pretend to ignore this but I know you’ll look.
    Because I’m your number one faaaaaaan.

  4. Voltaicc June 29, 2018 at 1:43 am #

    One of your finest of late. Reassuring to hear my own brand of neuroticism voiced by another, helps keep the depression at bay. Thank you. “My cancer”, ie you already identify with it. I know what you mean. Society is a pressure cooker. Like the jaguar BAP described in his book, suffocated from every side by the weight of simulated zoo life. If only it were like the Scorpions sang about, where Mexican Teen Pussy Day is holiday PTO. Wouldn’t mind living in that simulation while I’m milked of spinal fluid. Pituitary juiced like a little sponge for that sweet sweet adrenochrome. Possibly, this is the world the elite want to usher in through depopulation… You see why I can never toe any line except sheepishly. Neurotic overthinking fuels ambivalence, they’ve got me right where they want me. Whatever.

    Forgot you were a guitarfag. You might dig Jon Catler (based in Boston fwiw). Try:
    https://fretlessbrothers.bandcamp.com/track/stillwalker
    https://13oclockbluesband.bandcamp.com/track/blackbird-2

    • "the case is 2 doors" July 13, 2018 at 3:36 am #

      • Voltaicc July 19, 2018 at 3:27 pm #

        Despite hating “Djent” (what a stupid fucking name too), I shouldn’t bash it too much, given I love Behold the Arctopus (and a little Spastic Ink now and then). Recurring chugga-chugga gets to be too jacktastic. Perhaps there’s just something about pasty BPM-obsessed nerds playing dress up as hard, scowling men that screams “don’t judge, I just love masturbation!” Women don’t deny them so much as leave them to their own devices, as per their stated request. Perhaps if they were a little more BFP obsessed? “I’m not in it for the pussy, bro.” Of course bro, who is?

  5. Melissa J Kay August 30, 2018 at 4:32 am #

    Okay, here I am. Your time has come. Visit my Facebook page and have a look. You will die.

    You’re looking for a wife like crazy? I’m looking for a husband like crazy.

    You were born in 1976? I was born in 1976.

    You like to write?

    I wrote a bible called the third and final testament. It’s real. It exists.

    Maybe we’re twins!!

    Or maybe we’re doppelgangers.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: