Noon. Grocery. Me, alone, with a full cart. One of those half-carts, not the biggun. On the way out.
So I'm standing in front of the STUFFED ANIMAL CLAW MACHINE, where I am the undisputed, ultimate champion, as you will see from my last CLAW entry if you click here, but I shake my head because that bastard Johnny "Two Fingers" Claw (guy who fills the machine) stuffed those animals in good and deep this time.
I try to win anyway, even though I know it won't happen, but there is this "nearly-winning-angle-lonely" monkey, and one poodle that's definitely "iffy;" so I think I might get lucky, but alas, today is not the day.
I know I should always follow my gut.
Today you win, Johnny, you dick.
No worries. I'll be back for more, and I'll wait 'til the timing is perfect. Defeated, I start to roll on outta there, but then I hear a quiet, high-pitched voice say, "I never see anyone win at that thing," which is a comment that always makes me smile.
I turn to check out the curious onlooker.
The voice is attached to one of those "sample" ladies, I call them...she's standing behind a table, selling phones or groceries or some garb, trying to get everyone's info, but she suddenly seems much more interested in THE CLAW and me than she is in her sales job.
I know the feeling, sample lady.
"I win all the time," I state, grinning. "I knew I wouldn't win today, but I did it anyway." I shrug. "There's a trick to it."
"Really?" she says, raising her brows. She walks over to the machine, standing next to me.
"Yeah, you see that monkey? If he was angled back a little, I could get him," I state.
She nods, listening intently.
"And you see that poodle? If she were tilted forward some, I could get her for sure."
"I see," she says.
"And those tigers and monsters. No one will ever get those. They're too flat and smooth. Might as well not even try," I comment.
"Ah, yes, so it has to have a clear-cut head," she says.
"Exactly." I point at the back of the machine. "See, no one's ever gonna get that owl. It's so cool, though; it has a mustache, so everyone's gonna try and get it, but they won't. He's too big and too smooth and too flat. Who's ever seen an owl with a mustache?"
"It is cool," she says, nodding.
"But no one will ever get it. It's too big and heavy for the claw," I explain.
She curls her bottom lip under. "Yeah," she agrees.
"Unless..." Both my eyebrows raise excitedly.
"Unless what?" The lady says, smiling brightly.
"Well, you could hook the claw on that owl's tag...just so...and it might work," I state. "But you'd have to hit it just right, hm. Might work."
"It might," she says, cheering me on.
Our CLAW study is so intense, it's as if we're discussing plays for the Super Bowl.
While we're planning strategies, at least ten people walk by her table, and she misses a bunch of possible sales.
My frozen meals are thawing, and I totally ignore the work that's waiting for me at home. At this point, I'm intrigued and obsessed with the unbelievable, elusive owl.
"How many have you won?" she asks me, looking at me as if I'm a celebrity she has waited twenty years to meet.
"Oh, tons. I give them to kids," I say. "Well, I kept two."
"Which ones?" she asks excitedly.
"A monkey and a lion."
"Good choice," she says, looking around. "If I don't get back to my sales, I'm totally gonna get fired."
I nod and say, "Oh yeah, me too. Got a ton of writing to do, but there's that owl to deal with. Can't let go of that owl just yet."
She nods, and then she finally returns to her sales table.
I look at the machine, studying the owl's position. I know I need to get home and get back to work, but I can't resist those big eyes -- the uncertainty, and the untapped potential, the dream of the owl, and I throw out my day's schedule for the thrill of the machine. I glance at the sample lady, then back at the CLAW. Pulling out two quarters, I slide them in and think, Now that someone else is in on it, I don't feel so alone. If I hit it right on the money, I think that owl just might be possible.
Bet you want to know if I got it. But the fun isn't in winning. It's in the mystery.
C.A. MacConnell
