I’ve gotten word that a lady named Dardine lives in East Texas. Well of course she does! When I heard her name, I said it out loud over and over. My friends who told me about Dardine said, yes like Sardine but with a D. Weeks later and I’m still thinking about her and saying her name. I can’t ever meet Dardine at this point, for in my mind she is one thing and that’s not changing. The gamble of meeting Dardine just isn’t worth it in ruining my vision.
My Dardine is a little thing with dark hair that she gets colored and done every Friday. My Dardine knows everyone and everyone’s business. I did hear that this might really be the case, so I know I’m on the right track.
My Dardine lives alone with a scruffy tiny cat and a yapping little dog that loves no one but her.
My Dardine saves every rubberband knowing there will always be a need for one. Those rubberbands have joined together over Dardine’s life to make one huge rubberband ball that at this point she can hardly lift. The rubberband stays on Dardine’s kitchen table with her cigarettes , vintage Vegas ashtray and her note pad where she writes each days activities, sometimes adding to the list at the end of the day if she didn’t feel the day was full enough.
My Dardine drives an old buick that is filled to the gills with shit. The kind you see a loaded dashboard and upon looking in, see the numerous stacks of primarily junk mail and old food wrappers from the Dairy Queen.
But my Dardine will drop everything and drive that Buick to help anyone in need. She is known to bring a grocery store Angel Food Cake at a moments notice to anyone ill or troubled.
Lastly my Dardine keeps very little in her fridge, but has a freezer full of lord knows what, with every container purchased from the Dollar Store, filled with something unrecognizable, freezer crystals, and masking tape dates on the lids.
Dardine……lovable thing, like Sardine, but with a D.