![[astigmatic much?]](/img/side_strip.jpg)
pith.org content, daily-likemost recently
archive
Friday June 29, 2001, 22:24
My life has gotten to such a point where I can only concentrate for a short, short period of time. So I will only talk about things for a short period of time. Hopefully it will be interesting though.
To start, I really like peanuts. I am not sure when this started, but I am looking at a 30 oz jar of dry roasted peanuts right now. And I am eating some of them. Peanuts that is, not the jar. It's a rather heavy glass jar, which is a nice change from the cardboard container I was using from my last peanut purchase, mostly because a glass container means that I know exactly where to recycle it, rather than the cardboard, which I would love to recycle but do not for fear of mis-placing it.
Protocol is very important to me. It annoys me to no end when people put the wrong types of recycling into the wrong bins. I guess that's less protocol and more stupidity, but whatever.
Ok, so moving on.
I got a new bed. This is at the same time very exciting and very frightening. Exciting because I get to sleep not on the floor, which makes one more piece of furniture for my apartment, which means one more step to being something like a real person. Also because now I can bring girls back to my apartment without the weirdness of having a futon on the floor. And because it's so fucking comfortable I think I might just crawl into it and die now. On the other hand it means that I'm one step closer to being a real person and it reminds me that I'm never going to bring girls back to my apartment. Damn.
Moving on. Past things none of us want to think about.
Last night on my way home from a bar1 and a club2 I found myself on the street corner with a payphone receiver up to my ear, "Please deposit twenty-five cents" repeating in my ear as I watched two men comforting a woman who was clearly losing her shit. She bobbed up and down as one of the men held her and sat her down against the building, holding her hand and letting her cry into him. The other man, security from the club, rushed off and returned moments later with an SUV. White, tinted windows. The fed her into the car, shut the door and drove off down Broadway. There must be a story in there somewhere, but really, it's none of my business.
And then I stopped to talk to the homeless man who always asks me for change and a cigarette. Actually, I let him do all the talking, and while I never got to anything personal, and while he UN-originally told me that I look like Brandon Lee, it was still interesting listening to him talk about cars. And gangsters. Maybe he was talking about Al Capone. I don't remember.
"Who are the most important people in a restaurant?"
"The chef..."
"Right. Who's the other."
"Um. I'm not sure."
"The dishwasher!"
And so on.
"They have a union now, you know? And when the dishwashers go on strike the owner will be in there telling them to come back to work.
His hands shot up in the air at that point, for emphasis. Well, one of his hands at least. The other hand was still holding the cup full of change that he stops to shake at passers-by throughout my time there. I fingered the twenty dollar bill in my pocket and felt no twinge of guilt when I told him that I didn't have anything for him. It was the truth.
It was then than I told him that I had to leave, and then that he told me of the Lee resemblance. I thanked him and had a brief discussion in which I actually got some words out about the Lee Family curse and so on until shaking his hand and heading home.
And I slept a sound, peaceful night in my new bed.
1. In the open air under the moon in the middle of Union Square. It
was actually just about the perfect bar experience, at least in theory.
Smokeless with a cool breeze. Unfortunately I felt like I should have
been discussing "the market" and other things that I can't even make fun
of because I don't know enough about them. But it was really nice and
relaxing. Six dollar Corona and all.
2. Which happened to be hosting a particularly Gay Night, which was fine for some time and then I just got really tired of having large men shove past me, gripping my shoulders tightly and tossing me about, as if that was either a) polite or b) a way to get me into bed with them. Well, I mean, I probably give myself a bit more credit than I'm due, but even still, not sexy! Not at all, all that shoving and grabbing. Especially when the men doing all the pushing and shoving were women. Er, vice versa. You know.
[ permanent link ]
[ email love | your love | consumer love ]
------------------
search the past
remember the past
1999
aug 04 05 06 08 09 11 12 15 17 22 26 30
sep 01 03 07 12 20 28
oct 04 14 18 22
nov 02 07 12 19 25 26 27
dec 12 15 18 28 31
2000
jan 02 06 11 12 18 29
feb 03 10 14 17 21 23 28 29
mar 05 06 20 22 25 26
apr 02 05 06 08 09 10 12 13 17 20 21 24 25 28 29
may 03 05 08 11 12 15 17 17b 18 18b 21 23 25 29 30 31
jun 01 01b 03 06 07 08 10 13 14 16 18 21 23 25 30
jul 03 06 09 10 13 16 26
aug 02 03 04 08 10 17 21 25 29
sep 06 07 12 13 18 24
oct 06 11 12 19 30 31
nov 08 11 22 26 30
dec 01 10 14 21 30
2001
jan 01 09 14 16 30
feb 11 15 20 22
mar 06 08 09 21 25 30
apr 01 04 05 09 13 18 23 24 25 28
may 04 09 11 14 16 17 21 25 31
jun 02 08 20 21 28 29
jul 07 13 17 28
aug 14 24 26
sep 09 12 23 24
oct 10 26 28 31
nov 11 17 18 28 30
dec 02 08 15 18 26
2002
jan 03 07 08 18 20 23
feb 04 05 17 19 22
mar 06 10 13 15 17
apr 13 16 19 26
may 03 13 16 21
jun 08 15 21
jul 03 05 10 18 24
aug 03 18
sep 11 20
oct 03 05
nov 10
dec 30
2003
jan 19
feb 04 14 27
mar 10 23 31
apr 11 15
may 26
jun 16 29
aug 17
sep 15
oct 08
nov 30
dec 11 24 28
2004
jan 06 23 30
feb 01 21
mar 04 09
apr 15
may 02 10
jul 03
aug 02 16 30
oct 04 17
nov 28
dec 28
2005
jan 03 24
mar 24
may 28
aug 01 10
sep 03
oct 12 28
dec 25
2006
jan 01 07 16
feb 02 13 28
mar 12 13
apr 17
other things to look at