Let's go visit Genna. Drive two miles down the road to wait in the mile long line to get into her spectacular “gated” community. Waterfalls roar on either side of the guard house. The rush mutes out your inner screaming as you wait three hours to finally get inside of this cookie cutter labyrinth. Yes, it looks like a vision of conformity that only Disney's Celebration could truly emulate. The winding road leads you to a street where you slowly drive past each house, slightly pausing to see if you have counted exactly 12 houses in to find your best friend. Even the numbers on these cloned domains don't help. Is she 121145 or 124511? A car would be a helpful cue, but who doesn't own a Honda these days? A black Honda, or maybe it was silver. Fuck. Well, you pull into the driveway of a house that you “feel right” about and you knock on the door hoping you have either found your best friend or at least someone who resembles your friend. Genna opens the door. Jackpot. The houses get bigger, the rooms get smaller and you bunch into her broom closet of a room where you can't close the door because the foot of her bed is in the way. Silly girl, did you think you could have your room and sleep in it too? You sit on something that you may suspect is the vacuum cleaner or perhaps it is a sleeping dog. She goes on and on about her life in a matchbox home and you can't help but think of rotting diapers. Why is this image looming overhead? Because that is the image looming in the air. Yes, the breeze has decided to blow in a westardly direction and the visible green gas has now managed to cloud every part of the development, from the waterfalls to the man made lake in the backyard with the banks that seem to be melting into the hole that was dug to raise prices on the cardboard cottages. Genna's clothes, hair and cat now emit a trace remnant of these fumes. I have often looked at her pets, especially the dog-sized goldfish, that she has managed to keep alive and thought that their accelerated growth rate was due to Genna's excellent fish nutrition regime. I was wrong. It's obvious that whatever corrosive chemical they are using on that landfill has not only helped the gulls circling over it become as massive as eagles, but it has seeped into the water supply and the air supply enlarging everything within a three mile radius. Her cat is merely a stomach with legs and her eight year old niece is an amazon. The effects of the gas from the mountain of decay have also become psychological. Genna is now on an never ending hunt for a perfume that will block out the reality of her living situation. At night she gets up and takes showers to rid herself of the smell, something like burning eggs and moldy towels, but the water just ingrains the funk into her skin. Once in a while I question her family's decision to buy property on a hazardous waste site and then I think of my apartment, only two miles up the road and remember why I tolerate the location; it's the only place I could afford that wasn't an efficiency. I did trade a kitchen, a full bathroom, and a bedroom for some altered genes and cancer, but wouldn't you?
