FACING INFINITY
By Lara Karuna
Have you ever looked at yourself in the
mirror and suddenly felt that you were
looking at a stranger? All of my life
this has happened, usually during
transitional times. Mostly I enjoy it,
seeing it as a moment of growth, like
I'm uploading new definitions of who I
am. Always, I feel that something
deeper is stirring within me, something
much wiser than myself, perhaps
something divine. Now, with my road-dog
sister moving out to get married and my
mom dating a 32 year-old (the first guy
since my father passed away, and the
same age as my last boyfriend), I guess
you could say I'm entering a new phase
in life. And of course with all this
change, I am experiencing that same
disconnect with myself.
Cocktailing at Zanzibar, a hip, eclectic
club in Santa Monica, I had one such
moment. Escaping from the crowd, I went
to the bathroom to catch my breath. As
I washed my hands, I stared at my
reflection. It was one of those mirrors
that reflected all angles and I caught a
glimpse of my profile as I wiped my
hands. In that moment, I stared with the
cold objectivity of a passing stranger.
Looking at Lara, I felt amused. She
stood, so waitressy with her upright
posture and her ponytail swinging.
Staring without my usual critical
scrutiny, I found her to be prettier
than I think of myself and younger
looking than I feel. A wave of
affection enveloped me, as if she was my
child, and then I thought, What a
good kid.
After another second of staring I shook
it off, reminding myself, The 'kid' is
you, Psycho.
With my indulgent analysis over, I went
back outside to bring more gin and
tonics to drunk customers. The music
was blaring, as wanna-be hipsters and
clubbers on E danced to the beat. I
grabbed two drinks and walked over to
one of my tables.
"Excuse me," said a woman as I
approached, "could you tell them to
stop." She nodded towards a couple which
had plopped themselves practically on
her lap and were now making out.
"You don't know them!?" I asked as the
girl straddled the guy, her shoe nearly
knocking over my customers drink.
"No, they just sat here."
The girl was now dry humping her older
companion as they passionlessly made
out, looking more like extras on a porno
rather than a couple that couldn't
contain their attraction.
"Folks, can you please take that
somewhere else."
The couple glanced at me distractedly,
their eyes blank. They seemed to be
enjoying themselves as little as we
were, yet they resumed their pseudo
passion. After another interminable
minute of drugged-out, sloppy kisses,
they finally got up to move to a bar
stool where she could grind on him to
her hearts content.
As I watched them leave, my disconnect
extended beyond my reflection. I was an
anthropologist from the future, maybe
even an alien observing mankind.
Suddenly, I felt how temporary they
were. How temporary we all were. I
looked around, one by one the people in
the club disappeared. Though I always
wax eloquent on the transience of life,
I now felt it viscerally. Our important
little lives only a brief blip on this
old earth and that moment with the
couple so small it probably couldn't be
quantified. It all felt so silly. Both,
the couple and my indignation over them,
as if this millisecond in time would
make a damn bit of difference. And in
the middle of all that noisy, sweaty
heat, with one arm above my head as I
balanced my tray, I felt the silence of
infinity. The awe-inspiring force of
forever... Then someone tapped me on my
shoulder and the moment was gone. I was
back. The club was back and I needed to
go get the guy in the green shirt his
mojito, and he better tip me this time
or else I'm ignoring him and what's up
with that guy in the red, he's kinda
cute and if this chick keeps bumping
into me I'm gonna scream... I was back
to being Lara, however brief the existence.
