Distinguished Though Later Extinguished

First. Thanks for all of the great responses to the last post. I feel much closer to all of you now. Also, it's good to know that I'm not hanging out with a bunch of virgins.

Killer borrowed a fertile topic from Mel that involved the theoretical question:

Given the choice, what super power would you want to have?

Killer's response naturally entailed the capability to pull off his own feet, which he would then utilize as an object to hurl at super villains in an effort to thwart their evil plans. Frankly, I was impressed.

I've run into this question once before while on a first date a few years ago with some guy whose name I can’t remember at the moment. Our date was going okay despite the fact that the food wasn’t very good. We’d gone to this restaurant called the Flat Top Grill. It’s a fine place if you don’t mind those ‘create your own stir fry’ themes where you have to pick your raw ingredients from a salad bar set-up. I hate creating my own stir fry. (note that it was me who'd chosen the restaurant) In my opinion, restaurants should be solely responsible for figuring out what goes with what. Whenever I try, I just start to feel confused and disoriented. The results are never good.

So, on the date, I was busy feeling sorry for myself for being so bad at making good choices in terms of selecting my stir fry ingredients, when my date suddenly leaned forward and popped the question.

“If you had to choose, what super power would you want?”

“Um,” I said thoughtfully, “I don’t know. Maybe punctuality.”

“What?!” he yelped indignantly, “Be serious. I’ll bet you’d pick something like flying.”

I poured some more wine into our glasses.

“I’m afraid of heights. Besides, think how efficient you’d be if you were always exactly on time. Think of how much time you’d free up. You’d never have to wait for a bus. You’d never be late for a movie. You’d never get fired from a job…”

I glanced down at my plate and punctured another piece of broccoli with my fork.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“So,” I mumbled through the food in my mouth.

After that, the debate veered off into another direction.

It’s been a few years, and, although I still stand by my stance that flawless punctuality would be awesome, I feel that I’ve changed a little since then. Perhaps undergone some character growth, or, alternatively, maybe I've just made my brain all foggy through rampant idleness and drinking. Regardless of the cause, my answer has changed.

Given the option, I’d like to have the super power of natural fire retardation.

Stay with me on this one.

In essence, I would like the mere presence of me to prompt all forms of fire to spontaneously extinguish. I wouldn’t have to wave my arms or blow at the flames or anything like that. All I’d do is stand there next to the fire. Sometimes maybe I could whistle if there are children around that need soothing.

There’d be lots of drawbacks. I wouldn’t be popular at birthday parties. Also, I would ruin candle lit dinners for everybody and, likely, every other romantic endeavor occurring fireside.

On the other hand if those California wild fires spring up again or some rogue cow starts another inferno here in Chicago, guess who’ll suddenly be “Ms. Popular”. That’s right, me, Mighty Girl Flameless or maybe The Fire Retard. I haven’t settled on a name yet. I do like names that start with the word ‘the’, though. I feel like it adds resonance. Unlike the real me, my superhero persona wouldn’t hold grudges so I’d always be willing to lend a hand.

My costume would consist of a blue-green leotard with gold wrist cuffs and gold boots and maybe some sort of gold headband. Mostly, I’d just have a whole gold theme going.

Every hero needs a nemesis, so I’m guessing mine would be some guy that has a tendency to start catastrophic fires. I call him Charson.* He would wear an orange Speedo and whiz around lighting fires with his eyes. He’d be the only child of a set of binary suns in a distant solar system, and, would hate me because while on vacation one year, I accidentally flew too close in my golden flying castle** to his parents and extinguished/killed them. Charson would promise the black holes that had taken over the space once occupied by his parents that he would avenge their untimely demise. Then he’d come to Earth and start setting everything on fire.

My kryptonite would be liquor, which would annihilate my retardant capabilities making me highly flammable. Upon discovering my weakness, Charson would trick my secret identity, a librarian named Claire, into going out on a date with him (in disguise). During the date, he would ply me with alcohol (without my knowledge), thus negating my power. I would suddenly burst into flames when a man at a neighboring table strikes a match to light his cigar. As I lay dying within the burning restaurant, Charson would suddenly realize that he has fallen in love with me, but it is too late. In a horrible moment of realization, Charson would finally understand that revenge never pays.

*A combination of the words ‘char’, ‘arson’ and ‘son’.

** My mobile dwelling. Note that while on Earth, I’d keep my golden flying castle parked on a cloud drifting over Chicago.

The end.

-EEK