I had driven to Chillicothe, Ohio and had entered a room located in a branch of a college. After I sat down, the room gradually began filling up with people. A movie was being shown in the front of the room. On the walls were a number of paintings, most of which seemed to portray Walt Disney characters such as Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck.
On one wall close to me was hanging a large bed spread. Whoever had painted the paintings had also painted what appeared to be a cartoon on the back of the bedspread. The paintings were quite well-done; some local artist had probably executed them.
Some young attractive shapely college were girls in the room. I might try to pick one of them up; but they just seemed much to young for me. It seemed amazing that I should be so old that even college girls were too young for me.
I thought about where I could find women who would be more appropriate for me. The type of career woman who lived in Dallas, Texas would be more fitting.
I was sitting in a chair with the aisle to my right. A man (about 35 years old) sat down in the chair to my left. He was large-boned but didn't appear to be overweight. He was wearing a plaid shirt and seemed a bit dirty, as if he had been working on a farm and had just come from there. Finally, he turned to me and said something in French. I didn't understand exactly what he had said, but responded to him in French.
I had the impression that Chillicothe was about 80 per cent French-speaking. I began trying to explain to him that I had come to Chillicothe merely to learn a little French. A woman (probably in her early 30s) seated in front of me turned around and also began speaking in French. I asked her where she was from and she said French Canada.
I told her I was getting ready to go there. I asked her where she was from in French Canada and she said it was so far out of the way that it didn't even have a name. I told her I was going to go to Quebec City mainly because I thought Quebec City was about ninety-seven percent French-speaking.
Another woman, who likewise apparently was from Canada, was seated on the other side of the ma; she also began speaking with us in French. I asked them if many foreign students were in Chillicothe. Nobody responded, but I had the feeling that there were, especially since so much French was being spoken here.
The woman in front of me asked me where I was from. I told her I was presently living in
Portsmouth and added that I had already been through college and graduate school. I had only come up here to learn some French. She asked me if I had an apartment and I said, "No, actually I'm living with my mother right now."I wanted her to know I was just staying with my mother for a very short time and that I didn't really live with her.
I had a tray with a piece of cake on it. I was getting ready to leave and I asked the girl in front of me if she would like to have some cake. She said she would. She had some orange juice and offered me some. I also had some milk and she asked me for some. I thought I would just pour my milk into her orange juice and mix them together since I thought milk and orange juice went well together.
I finally left, returned to my mother's home and began preparing to leave for Canada. I had some
collages I had made in front of me. I turned one of them over and on the back wrote "Clifford." I wanted to write his name four times on the back, but I only wrote it twice. I wanted my mother to know that if something should happen to me the collages should be given to Clifford.Copyright 2003 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com
