*** Yesterday:

I'm walking home from the train, and pass a dapper old drunk outside one of the dingy neighborhood pubs. He is wearing a short-sleeved button-down shirt with thin, crossing lines, and a little straw hat. He staggers to a stop, looks at me, and slurs, "Hey, yer beautiful. How 'bout a drink?"

I respond, "Thanks. No." Then I trip on the perfectly level sidewalk.

Who's the drunk?

*** About a month ago:

I am walking home from Ennui in the dark, and am approached by a tall, pale stranger with his hands in the pockets of his dangerously short shorts. He looks pretty harmless, if a little odd and eager. He says, "Miss? Miss? Can I just say hello?"

I think "Yeah, sure, man. I'd talk to you, but your little paws are crammed too deeply into your pants-pockets for my personal comfort."

*** A few years ago:

Coming up from the Camden tube stop in London, I pass a guy descending the opposite escalator. He kind of stares at me, and I look ahead. He reaches the bottom before I reach the top, and calls out, "Hello? Hello!" I turn, and he says, "You are ... absolutely ... beautiful!" I say, "Ummm ..." because I think the guy's totally sauced (and hell, he could've been talking to his hallucination), and I look up to the top of the escalator, where my pseudofriend Geoff is waiting for me. Escalator Bloke sees this and says, "Oh. And you've got a boyfriend." I'm like, "Ummm ..." and I reach the top of the escalator and go home.

*** My Senior year in college:

I am walking into the dining hall when I'm confronted by Margie, one of the developmentally impaired custodial workers, infamous for talking to herself and repeating raunchy bits of students' lunch conversations. She sees me, approaches, comes within 4 inches of my face, and yells "HEY, BEAUTIFUL!"

If Margie wasn't, like, 4'9" I would have shat my pants from terror.

*** A couple of weeks ago:

I'm walking from Meghan's apartment to the train, and I see a man and a woman conversing on the sidewalk. He is teetering, and holding a dark plastic bag. She is smoking, wearing an oversized t-shirt and undersized cut-offs. They are having a heated discussion.

She says, slowly, sadly, "Why you always gotta yell?" He starts to walk away. She continues, "I'm right here! Why you gotta yell? I can listen! I can listen!"

I pass her, listening to her repeated assertions dissolve into sobs: "I can listen!"

*** Now, what I wonder is, what harm would it have done for me to stop and chat with these strangers? To find out what inspired the comments I heard from them? I wouldn't have followed them into any dark alleys, but I would have liked to have learned their stories. It could have only been interesting.

After yesterday's bummer of an entry, I think I should mention that all in all, last weekend was fantastic. Must give credit where credit is due, so: Thank you, weekend.

Friday I met Ln for dinner, and we had a wonderful conversation as usual. Then, we went back to her place and watched "Tank Girl." As a result, that night I dreamt that I was in very real danger of being shot. It was rather thrilling. I like to think I had a rather Tank-Girl-esque attitude about the whole dreamed predicament.

Saturday, Ln and I went to the Cubs game, I having procured a couple of free tickets from work. They lost, but I can't say I was terribly torn up. The game was fun, the weather was nice, our seats were in the shade, and it was FREE. Big bonus. A father and his 4-year-old son sat in front of us, and we watched the little boy gnaw on his dad and kick us and other seat-neighbords for the first 3 innings, while his dad did nothing. The kid insisted that they leave, so they left. On there way out, the dad looked around jokingly and said, in an "isn't he cute?" voice, "He's sorry that he's four!"

Yeah. As if the kid needed any more excuses to keep being an asshole.

Saturday night I went out with a new friend. "B," this wonderful girl from M's improv class that I met at a party with M. We immediately hit it off. B lives around the corner from me, and it's so great to have another girlfriend nearby. She reminds me a lot of my best friend from high school, a really smart, sassy, "intimidating" person. Since I'm, like, the exact opposite of intimidating, I always seem to get along with those kinds of people. I'm (gag) "sweet." Yeah. But, I'm not easily intimidated by people. This sounds like a huge log of Hickory Farms cheese, but I find most people fascinating.

Aaaaanyway, so B and I downed some sangria at Moody's, smoked until we ran out of cigs, went to Dominic's to get more, and went to a pub for a final beer, gabbin' all the while. I was trashed. (So, Nils, I am not so in need of "a *drink*, a smoke and a whole night of bad." But thanks. Actually, I'll have to keep working on the "night of bad.")

Sunday I went to a baby shower. Pleasant. I would have preferred doing other things with my Sunday, because I didn't know the mother-to-be particularly well, (though I think she's wonderful,) and spent much of the time babysitting E., who had weaselled her own invitation to the shower, and who I was afraid would continually say inappropriate things all afternoon.

She did. She was super-hyper. I don't mind that, I fucking love E., but I forgot how she must come across to strangers, especially at a baby shower where one is supposed to be a cooing lady. E belched her normal belches, and it occurred to me that I have never heard her say "excuse me." She just blows it out the other side of her mouth. Lovely. I'm used to seeing this at home, and it really doesn't matter then, but you know, I'm all for manners. Crass isn't always funny. Call me a priss. Then fuck yourself.

Just kidding.

I then went home, had a rather upsetting conversation with my mom, and thought too much. B called me to invite me to a little divey jazz club, but I wasn't feeling up to it. We chatted for a while, and then my phone screamed at me as the batteries died. So I folded my laundry and went to bed.

All in all, as I said, a wonderful weekend.

James Spader? Yeah, I might let him spank me.

~ Last Five Entries ~

Moths, and Relative Nonsense - 08.18.05

I Finally Have Internet Access in my Bedroom. But, No Ashtray. - 08.09.05

Here I Am - 08.02.05

One-Armed Paper Hanger Earns her Wings - 07.29.05

Sugar & Lemon - 07.28.05

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BUY JEN'S BOOK! BUY IT! DO IT!

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BUY DEAN'S BOOK, TOO! YOU KNOW YOU WANNA! SERIOUSLY.

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