Merry New Zealand Christmas!

Bodega

He walked into the Bodega, a music venue and bar, on a Thursday night. A man sat on stage with his guitar playing music without meaning, he was just a part of the background. Jake sat down next to his friend, Dave, and ordered a beer. It arrived and he sipped lightly on it while and Dave chatted and joked. a woman on Daves other side interrupted to ask Dave a question and they began a conversation. Jake began to zone out, thinking about nothing, listening to the nothing music and to the hum of the conversation between the woman and Dave. He took a look at her. She was about 45, big frizzy hair, a tired face with too much make up, large plastic glasses and a large saggy body. Looking at her, Jake felt that she took up the whole room, sucked in the surrounding space for herself. She ignored his sizing up and he looked away, back to his warm beer. He took a drink and felt bored. He checked his watch, almost 12:30, he should be getting on.He got up to go the the bathroom, before saying goodbye and spent some time peeing, washing his hands, txting a friend.When he got back Dave was gone.

The woman sat alone in the now empty bar. He walked over to her to ask if she knew what happend with Dave but he stopped short when she turned suddenly and looked at him through her big glasses, her eyes sharp and intense. Jake felt an electric pulse go from her eyes through his body, straight down to his penis. "Let's got back to my place" she commanded. It wasn't a question. Jake nodded quickly, he had to have her.

Jake sweat in the still night air as he waited for the click of the door lock. She turned to him, "Let's fuck" she groaned enchantingly, pushing open the door. He followed her into the darkness.

He awoke at 4AM in her bed. Her breath was loud in her mouth as she slept next to him. His eyes widened as he realized where he was and what he'd done. He jumped up and forced his clothes on, running out of the room and into the night like a spooked cat. He ran all the way to his house and straight to the shower. His mind was exploding at his bodies vile actions. Why had he done that? Oh God, why?!

When he came out an our later, skin red and raw, he saw his brother waiting for him in the hall. Jake shuddered involuntarily. "Where have you been?" his brother grinned "Long night on the piss?". Jake shook his head "I had one beer. I just...I..." he struggled to explain but eventually it was peiced together. His brother eyes looked strange, not shocked but instead as if they recognized what Jake was feeling. "That's Melinda...I've been fucking her for 6 months, bro. I can't help it, every time I see her it's like I'm compelled. I think she's a witch, I really do." Jakes brother said softly, looking down.
They stood still, neither had any idea what to say. Both perplexed, Jake in his towel, his brother in pajamas. It was 6 AM.

Outside the birds sang as the flew in the morning air, the sun came up over the hills and in her bed Melinda chuckled deeply in her sleep.

The best way to believe in something completely is to know as little about it as possible.

'fundamentalism is the last step before enlightenment... because once you put your faith completely in something, and it inevitably falls, you will fall so hard that it will illuminate balance'

Seen on the street

I saw this sign in front of a cafe called The Lunch Box:

Cum and try our hot box! Yum yum!

The girl behind the counter rang up her customer, looked around the cafe and spotted a couple sitting by the window, menus flat on the table they looked expectantly at her. She smiled and walked over.
"Are you ready to order?" the girl asked
"Yes, I'll have an orange juice thanks" said the man in the couple
"Orange juice" repeated the girl "no problem, and for you" she turned to the woman.
"I'll have English Breakfast" the woman reponded
The girl frowned "I'm sorry, we've actually run out of that tea earlier this morning, can I get you anything else, we have a pretty good selection of other teas."
The woman looked at the girl as if there were a hole in her shirt which bared her chest in a most vulgar manner."Well. Do you have any other regular teas?"
"We have earl grey..."offered the girl. The woman scrunched her nose."...or mint, green, mango, berry, kawa kawa, chamomi..." the woman looked blankly at the girl, who faltered in her recitation and decided to stop talking.
"I said regular teas." insisted the woman.
"Gumboot tea" thought the girl. "I'm sorry, we usually do have it but unfortunately we won't have any till tommorow."
"I'll think about it." Grumped the woman.
The girl turned away with relief and went to get the orange juice.

5 minutes later the woman and man had not yet decided what they wanted to eat and went to look at the deli food sitting on the counter behind which the girl stood, dishing a salad into a bowl for another customer. When she was done the girl turned to them and asked if she could get them anything.
"Any progress on the tea?" the woman asked expectantly.
"Uh. Well we really don't have any right now" said the girl but in her head thought "This woman is obsessed, she must shut up about the tea very soon."
"Well, you don't have any in the back or anything? Perhaps you could run across the street to the dairy and get some for me. It would be nice." The woman raised her eyebrows in a way that said "This is something you should have thought of."
"Who was this woman, was she really saying this?"mused the girl.
"Look, do you ever watch Star Trek? Think of me as a hologram, ok?The problem really is that I can only work within these walls, so within this space I will get you anything you need if we have it and I will smile and mean it while doing that, but I cannot leave the station no matter how urgent your tea situation is. I'll even give you the hot water if you want to bring your own tea bag in but to run tot he dairy and get some shitty tea to give to people would comprimise our quality standards." Thought the girl, but didn't say.

Ignoring the womans suggestion but pretending as if she were addressing it the girl stopped a coworker and said "Hey, we don't have any more english breakfast, do we? Not anywhere in the back or anything?"
"Yeah, no English Breakfast till tommorow I'm afraid." Confirmed her coworker. The girl smiled so that all of her teeth showed "Sorrrreee!" she sang" Let me know if you want anything else!" then she pranced away, laughing to herself. Some people!

HS was like a boring night at work

It was a slow night at work last week, I was behind the bar/kitchen folding serviettes and talking to one of the chefs.
"My God" Complained Mic "I hate it when it's slow like this, there's no point in being here."

"At least your getting paid, and you aren't really having to work for it" I reminded him.

"Yeah but I have other stuff I could be doing, sitting here is a waste of my time."

"Funny, that's how I used to feel about highschool." I told him

The somewhere behind me I heard another waiter snort loudly.

The Poo Blog

I was in the kitchen reading a magazine and drinking a coffee when Dan walked in. “Hey Mads, did you just go to the bathroom?”

I looked up “Yeah, like 10 minutes ago.”

“I knew it was you” he said chuckling.

“What? Why?” I asked, feeling like my bathroom secrets might be about to revealed.

“You have the floaty-est poo I’ve ever seen. I guess it didn’t flush when you went so it was still there when I went. Then I took a crap, put toilet paper on it and flushed and it still didn’t go down. Floaty poo.”

Feeling perplexed I asked him what I could do about it. I’d never had this problem before and hadn’t realized it could even be a problem.

“You’re holding it in too much Mads, you gotta let it loose more often.” He kissed me on the cheek and sat down.

“Let what loose?” I said, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Your farts. You hold them in too much and it riddles your poo with air.” He explained confidently, patting me on the bum

“How do you know this?” I laughed, knocking his hand away.

“It’s just common sense.” He took a sip of coffee into his mouth and winked at me.

myspace is good for the ego

Every now and then someone finds me on myspace and sends me a message only good for stroking my ego. I recieved one such message today, in fact:

Awww you moved to New Zealand....that saddens me. i had like a huge crush on you in high school. hope all is well.-M.P.

Pretty nice, right? Just a short message to let me know he cared, even if we hadn't talked since sophmore year when he told everyone that I was in love with him. Which wasn't true, I just had a crush on him but was afraid because he was a "bad boy". Later he found Jesus and now appears to be in the marines.

However nice that is, the best one I got was this:

maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadgieee!!! (ive forgotten the exact spelling of ur name (so ill just spell it like my sisters name) ) what ever happened to u after highschool? i wanted to go out with u soooooo bad. in fact i remeber one time u asked me if i liked u and i got really nervous and scared (i had no idea why u were asking(i know, idiot) so i said no, or something. i wanted u so bad... i mean wanted to go out with u :) (im drunk) ........ i miss u, u gotta come into houston sometime im in town

Oh, those happy golden years...

Simpsons Reference

Yesterday I overheard this conversation in the dishroom at my new job:

"Hey mate, watcha lookin' for?"

"I'm just lookin' for a little knifie to cut this orange with."

"How about this?"(Holds up a spoon)

"Mate, that's not a knifie, that's a spoonie."

"Ohhh, I see you've played knifie spoonie before!"

(Both fall into a laughing hysteria)

A kid in sport stays out of court?

My man list

Last night the flatmates and I made up lists of guys we like and then after our lists were completed we assigned them either to marraige material or sex only. This is my list in no particular order.

• Wes Anderson-Marry
• French Rugby team-Sex
• Johnny Depp-Marry
• Brad Pitt-Sex
• Slug-Sex
• Daniel Dae Kim-Sex
• Edward Norton-Sex
• Jason Schwartzman-Marry
• Seu Jorge-Marry
• Aesop Rock-Sex

What are you thinking?

"What're you thinking?" he asked me as we walked down the street after the movie.We'd been together 2 months and I knew he'd be wishing for me to say something thoughtful, possibly about him or the state of our relationship. Only I'd been thinking about what I'd name my dog, if I ever had one. What to say? Oh God, he's looking at me this is too much pressure I don't know what to say! With every moment that passed the expectations for the deepest thought possible became greater.

Has this happened to you? If so you'll know the anguish of being caught out by your partner and you'll be thinking to yourself, "There must be another way! Some list of answers to have for just this moment."

What Are You Thinking?

• Wooden...
• I was just thinking about what color our childrens eyes might be, if we had them.
• The stars are beautiful tonight, aren't they?
• Your hair looks strange in this lighting.
• You're more attractive than (famous attractive person)
• I think I have an STD.
  
• I was wondering why I told you that (odd thing they do) is normal.
  
• I can't decide if my favorite bread is multigrain or wheat.
  
• I...I think I could be gay. Is it gay or lesbian?
• I knitted you this hat!
• Fuck, I just love basketball!
• Is it normal to enjoy farting this much. Oh, I mean "Passin gas" heh.
• I once made beer from the yeast of a woman.
• I think thongs and lowrise jeans have given us the new cleavage.
• The Hulk is my all time favorite movie.
• I'd love to meet Indiana Jones.
• I was just thinking of this great part in Baby Sitters Club the movie.
• Whaddya say we get wasted and do it for the first time?
• I was just wondering what was air was made of.
• My cat's name is Mittens.
• I love you???
• Tom Cruise is the ultimate role model.
• You look just like my mother.
• I wish I were Japanese. Everyone loves them.
  
• Do you actually believe the Holocaust really happened?
• I have to pee so badly.
• Nothing, Jesus get off my back!
• Have you put on weight?
• I think I've just started my period. No sex tonight, haha!
  

Flight of the Conchords

These guys are a very clever, hilarious singing comedy duo from New Zealand. They are not, in fact as popular in NZ as they are in the states and Britan. This is a clip from a great show they did for HBO called One Night Stand. Check it out bro!

Oh, baby

My friend Natalie is pregnant. She's my age but already has experienced pregnancy twice before; Once when she was sixteen and again at 21. The first time she had an abortion, the second time she was due to miscarry so she had another abortion. This time she couldn't go through that again, this time she's decided to do everything she can to prevent a miscarraige and she is not considering abortion.

The father is a 34 year old man we'll call Mister. Mister freaked out utterly when she told him she was pregnant. No, that's not true actually. When she first told him they talked about it and he told her it was her choice, he'd support her no matter what. It was when she told him her choice was to keep it that he freaked out and refused to see her or talk to her about it. They have mutual friends and there have been times when she comes to visit that she can see him run out the back door, hiding till he can escape.

Recently she made her first doctors appointment and decided to tell him in the off chance he'd be interested. She wrote him an email:

Dear Mister,
Just wanted to let you know I've made a doctors appointment for next Wednesday in case you feel like coming, I'll be getting the first sonogram.

Natalie

The next day he wrote back:
Do not contact me. If you have to then you can do it through my lawyer.

He included the name of the lawyer as well as the phone number, she called it.

"I do not respresent this person" the lawyer told her.

Natalie emailed Mister:
The lawyer says he doesn't know you or represent you.

Mister wrote back:
Ok, don't contact me or my lawyer, I'll contact you when I want.


Now, I realise that suddenly being made a father can be a real headspin, but what has this guy not done in his life that at 34 he can't handle this kind of situation more maturely? He feels he's been left out of the final choice but as my friend Amy says "He made his choice when he decided it'd be ok to have sex without a condom, after she warned him that she was a really fertile person."

if you can't be a good example, you have an obligation to be a horrible warning

Your momma does not live here and if she did she'd tell you the same

"Hey, don't do the dishes, alright? I'll do them when I get back tonight" I said
"Oh, it's so nice to have another girl here" my new flatmate sighed "The guys never clean anything, you know how they can be."
"Dan never washes the dishes?" I asked
She laughed "No, he's always busy with school and Mada is, well...he's Mada and with Yaz gone it's just been me cleaning up."
She went to her room leaving me alone as I pondered womens lib and the progressive movement.

I made up a conversation between me and a male who made women do all the house work. It went like this:

"You don't do dishes?"
"No, it's pretty sweet huh? I don't have to do any house stuff, the girls do it all!"
"I am a girl"
"You better get crackin' then, I see a pile of dishes with your name on it."
"Hahahahaha! No way."
"Why not?"
"Cause I'm not your (pardon the obvious) maid. You have the same capabilities I have. I can't believe we're even having this conversation."
"You are ruining my life."

End.

Casey

Casey was the girl that girl that was never understood
You could see her every day in bright tights and yellow hood
She never spoke really but her smile was constant
She'd walk the streets from sun up to sun down reciting sonnets
Picking flowers for the children who all thought that she was crazy
Casey never stopped her mission of spreading poetry and daisies

She wasn't old or young but just one of a kind
I never saw another like her she simply was a divine
A bright light on a grey street, red tights on her light feet
She'd dissapear nightly to show up early and brightly
I don't know where she went though, to people who cared
Or sleeping in ditches or under the stairs, couldn't ask her though
Her senses weren't there, her mind was wandering, unaware

I left that street and never thought about coming back
Casey could still be there
Walking back and forth wearing a path
With her red tights and yellow hair

Patches

From The Office

What is Gareth thinking about?

Public Restroom Guide

When using a public restroom you must always:

-Check for toilet paper
-Check for droplets on the seat
-Check that there is a lock on the door

Also, it's a good idea not to use the middle stall if you have bad feelings about germs. The middle stall is likely to be the most used while the first stall is the least used.

-Hints From Madge

To use or not to use?

Plan B or The Morning After Pill causes arm waving, voice shaking debate on The View

The KKK game

This evening I was having dinner with my mother, Rie, and godmother, Elsie when I heard an interesting story from Elsie.
Elsie is a very sweet, funny woman nearing her 70's. She stays active and works at a bank a few days a week to stave off boredom. A few weeks ago, she tells us, they were all sitting around at lunch, talking about ear piercings. You know, how old they were when they first had their ears pierced, their first set of earrings, crazy peircings that people have...when Elsie piped up to tell the story of her first earrings and how they'd been lost.

She was very young, probably about 5 or 6 when she'd gotten her ear's peirced and in that same year while playing a game of Klu Klux Klan they'd been ripped out by accident.
The room went quiet. Everyone looked at the lone black man standing in the room.

"Thank God he had a sense of humor!" Exclaimed Elsie "I mean, I didn't realize what I was saying! When we played that game we were very young and didn't know what it meant. All we knew was that you wore a pillowcase on your head and pretended to kidnapp each other."

"Like Cowboys and Indians." I offered

"Exactly."

Her co-workers sat stunned, staring first at the man then at Elsie
(
"You know the ones most shocked were the ones feeling most guilty. I hadn't realized what I'd done, I was just telling a story"she frowned.)

He laughed "What exactly were the rules of this game?"

The room relaxed and Elsie explained that she didn't remember much, just that someone with a pillowcase on thier heads came to take you away, and they put a pillowcase on your head as well, which is when her earrings were caught and ripped out. No one was hurt.

A few weeks later the man left, he was only temping. On his way out he said goodbye to Elsie

"Hope I didn't scare you too much." He teased
"Ohhh now you know I liked you all along!" She laughed.

Come live with me in NZ

Think about moving to NZ
we could start a commune
there's plenty of land there
and we know nothing about farming

Two Girls and a baby-cat

Two girls are stoned and driving home from hanging out with a friend. Night is long past fallen and the windows are open to let in the warm breeze.

Kate: Amy is hilarious, we should hang out more often on the oh, shit I almost hit a cat!

Meg: Oh man, good thing you didn’t, that would have been terrible.

Kate: You know what would have been worse? If it’d been a kitten.

Meg: Or what if it had been a baby? Oh, that would be really sad!

Kate: Or a baby and a kitten?

Meg: Or a baby wearing a cat suit!

Gales of laughter carry out of the windows into the humid night as the car drives on unaware that a baby in a cat suit is listening. The baby smiles and shakes it head. If only they knew.

Picking daintily through the grass
he prances contentedly
wet with dew he shakes off
drops in one movement
and notices me with curiosity
and looks away, seeing the field as new
goes back as he came
navigating through the tall weeds
looking back in astonishment at his wet paws

"We create a reality that is a reflection of how we feel"

"A dog in hunt doesn't stop to itch it's fleas"

Happy Fourth of July!

The grocery store was crowded this fourth of July. People were buying hot dogs and beer as if our very independance depended on it. As I walked in with my roommates a man wearing a red HEB apron and hat greeted us. "Hey guys! How ya'll doin' today?" We said we were good, thanks, and you? "I'm doing good! Let me know if you need anything, except money Haha! I don't get paid till Thursday!" We smiled uncomfortably and began shuffling away. He waved to us "it looks like ramen again tonight!"

Setting: A cd and record store in downtown Houston. Two 17 year old girls stand in the popular music section slowly sifting through cd's on a lazy sunday. One of the girls picks up Blood On The Tracks.


First girl: Oh I have this cd. It's really good, one of his best.

Second Girl: Whose best? (Takes the cd to read the musicians name) Whose Bob Die-lan?

First Girl: What! Did you just say Bob Die-Lan? Your parents listen almost exclusively to folk-rock! You know who Bob Dylan is!

Second Girl: (Unimpressed) Oh. yeah, I don't like his voice, he sounds like he might be retarded.

First Girl:(Throws up on second girls shoes)

Second Girl:(Learns a lesson in music and in friendship.)

My friend Amy was driving home yesterday when an SUV next to her began to change lanes without noticing that Amy was actually already occupying that space. In an act of self preservation Amy honked her horn. As the car swerved away a little girl the back seat (aged about 6 or 7) turned around and simultaneously stuck out her tongue and gave the bird* . Amy was traumatized. Parents: teach your kids not to be so God-Awful at life.







*The finger, flipped her off, said up yours in hand jive, stuck her middle finger up without any of the other fingers being up

A question of gains

My history teacher once told me that in any war or battle in History people often give moral reasons for thier beginnings, but in the end it is more important to see who gained from the war if you want to find out how it really began.
This idea came to me while I was thinking about the debate of global warming. Why do people believe that it isn't real? Credible people, scientists, politicians, teachers...etc will show you the research but still it is widely believed to be just an idea, and probably a wrong one. Like it's just hippy bullshit,stirring up trouble. If this is true then the important question to ask is who gains from the global warming idea?

Perhaps if Al Gore had become president I wouldn't have this terrible sinking feeling in my stomach.

I was at work one night when I heard the customer entrance open and close. I went to the front to wait on whoever might have entered but recognized immediately that they would not be buying anything.
Her skin was mottled and red from sun damage and neglect, her body was swollen and shook uncontrollably. Her hair clung to her head in patches. In her hand was a plastic cup and on her face a frozen look of sullen suprise. I felt a pang of worry, people like this could go off to a bad direction and I didn't want to be a around if she freaked. On the other hand, she was looking at me intensely and I hadn't said anything yet.
"How can I help you?" I said loudly, cheerfully
"WATER." she croaked "I NEED SOME WATER." She held out her shaking hand. I took the cup.
I filled and returned it. She held it and said nothing. I said nothing. I walked off to the side where my co-workers stood huddled, giggling fearfully.
I shrugged, playing it cool.
"What's she doing?" They asked
I checked through a peephole in the divider.
"Just kind of...standing there." I replied
Eventually we heard the door open and close again and saw her sit outside. We went back to work, the thrilling moment had passed.

30 minutes later----------

Mac was a film student. A man of bravado, he constantly reminded others of how good looking he was, how many famous people he knew all the films he was currently working on. "Feel my stomach" he'd say " I can lift 200 pounds over my head" he'd say "I'm so glad I'm good looking."

He walked in from a delivery having missed the crack lady event and went straight to work by the front entrance. I stood behind the divider packaging cookies for delivery while he talked about all the hot girls he'd seen while he'd been out. I heard the door open and close and looked up to see Mac turning to help the customer. His eyes went wide with fear and his jaw dropped.
"Uh..."
"CAN YOU BUY ME A COOKIE?" She said forcefully
He stood in shock for a moment longer "I uh, I'm s-sorry. I..I don't have any money." He jangled his pockets to show they were empty.
"OH" She continued to stare at him and stood awkwardly, unsure of what he should do. Eventually he turned back to what he'd been working on, shoulders hunched, while she watched.
My shoulders shook violently as I fell to the floor, laughing as quietly as possible.

For the rest of the night Mac would stop in the middle of a conversation, in the middle of work and his face would freeze in fear, her image haunting him.

"I have a plan for immigration. Allow every Mexican in. Make them join the military. Then invade Mexico and don’t have an exit strategy.”

Rich Voss

Drunken packing: really just throwing things on the floor.

Ceiling Cat

This might haunt you every day. Think about it. www.ceilingcat.com

This movie...it's not good

This New Yorker review of the third X-Men movie pretty much sums up how I felt after watching it.

The discussion

During a recent conversation with Daniel over the topic of children I told him that I was interested in adopting.

"Why would you want to adopt if you can have children of your own?" he asked.

"Because you have the opportunity to change someone's life completely!" I said, flabbergasted that he would say such a thing.

" Why shouldn't you? It's not just about satisfying a need to have children, it's also about giving children a good home. There are so many kids that will go to shitty foster homes or to adoptive parents that don't care or are abusive."

"Well, yes that's true. But don't you want your own children? Maybe I sound selfish but I've always really wanted someone that came from me." He crossed his arms and sat back.

"I know. Most people want that and I think it's understandable. I just think there are people that should consider both ways if they can. I mean, if you have the means and the desire to raise a child why not at least consider both options?"

"There are risks with the kids though." Dan reminded me "What if they inherited a drug addiction from their parents, or illnesses or have big emotional problems?"

"Well, right, you've got to be careful. I mean you should always consider if you can handle something like that. But thats not all children and they should talk to you about it before going through the process."

"Ok, so would you want to adopt before having your own kid or after?"

I considered this. "Well, if we're talking about a big family, like more than 2 kids, I'd do the adoption either first or last, but not the middle.Maybe last."

"I'd go for last as well. I don't know though, I wouldn't want to adopt if it's at the expense of our own child." He said definitively

"What are you talking about, at the expense? Would you care for our biological baby more than the adopted?" I couldn't believe it. " Like you don't want the adopted kid's need for attention to take away from our own?! Why would having four with two of each be any different than deciding to have four of blood!!? Having the second kid would be at the expense of the first no matter what!"

"No, I mean I don't want to go ahead and adopt a kid and then you just decide you don't want to birth at all. You can just take it away!" He stuck his finger in the air as if pointing to the morals of the situation.

I laughed. "Ohh! why would you think I'd do that?"

" Why would you think I'd be mean to my adopted kid?"

I laughed,"Fair enough. Ok, so you'd at least consider going halvsies?"

"Yeah, I'd do that."

We shook hands.

"Whatever made you so into adoption anyway?" He wondered.

"I have no idea." I shrugged" but you know when you were growing up, how you'd sometimes think about what your life would be like in the future, when you were older. Just sort of took a glance at what you thought it would be like?"

He nodded so I continued

"And how for you, it was a big family, kind of like the one you grew up in? When I took a look it was always with adoption in mind, a small to medium family in a cool city that wasn't Texas..." I paused, smiling "and a hot foreigner as my husband."

"Sweet!" He grinned, "But we're going to have to talk about that 'small family' thing..."

I was cooking my dinner last week when there was a knock on the door.
I looked through the peephole and saw someone that I thought was my brother. Upon opening the door, however, I saw that it was someone I did not know. Specifically, an attractive male.
He turned out to be a census guy who wanted to know if I knew anything about my neighbor. I'd only met her once so all I could tell him was that she lived alone.
He thanked me and got my name and phone number and left me to my cooking.

This week I was coming home from a long day at work when I saw census guy sitting on the stairs that led to my apartment.

"Hey, you don't happen to live in apartment 411 do you?"
"No, I met you before, remember? I never see the girl who lives there."
"Ohhh right, Madge."
"Yeah, thats right."
"Well, do you know how many people live there"
"Should just be one" I said looking at him. He looked at me. It was one of those moments where you both know you've had this conversation before but are repeating it simply because it's easier than acknowledging it's repetition.
He thanked me for my help and left, I went to my apartment.

Tonight while I was at work I heard the door open and went to help whatever customer had just come in.
He was attractive and familiar.
"Meg"
"Census guy"
"I'm actually not going to be doing the census anymore" he seemed upset.
He explained that they were cutting the part time workers back. He was sad to lose the extra money.
"But don't get me wrong, I do fine."
I gave him his cookies and he paid me.
"No tax? excellent."
He left the building and I went to the back to finish scooping ice cream for the next day.
"Goddamn, census guy is fine"

The Unicorn

Last October I was in Wellington, New Zealand staying at my boyfriend's sister, A.V.'s house. I was nearing the end of my time in New Zealand and was travelling around seeing the rest of the country before I had to leave. We were at her friends house, just hanging out, listening to music. I was taking advantage of the internet while it was available when I got an email from CJ, my best friend, telling me that something terrible had happened and that I should call her immediately.
I stayed calm, CJ often went to extremes when describing events that were really not. I checked my live journal friends list to see if this terrible thing had happened within the group and not just with CJ. I read "I can't believe she's gone.", I read "She was so beautiful." I read "Cheleigh called me before she jumped, I had no idea." I jumped up, told Dan's sister that I had to go to her house to use the phone and ran up the hill to find out what was happening.

I called CJ but there was no answer so I called another close friend, both to me and to Chesleigh, and when he answered I told him what I knew and he told me the rest.
"She jumped off a 30 story building, a hotel. She just checked in, went straight upstairs to the pool on the roof. Apparently she texted a few people to say goodbye and she'd sent some packages a few days before. No one saw her do it but the police said she must have been running full speed, she was far from the building when she landed."

He was very calm, he'd known for two days and had already resolved how he felt towards it.
"I think after all she'd tried, the therapy, the clinics, the medications... she just felt like it was never going to end. It's been like she was just waiting for the right time."

I hung up with him and called CJ again. She told me the details of the memorial and who she thought was coming. She sounded tired and worn. I told her I'd try to leave early to make it.
I called my parents, told them I'd be trying to come back early.
I called Qantas and moved my flight up a week.
I called the bus station and scheduled a bus ride to Auckland.
I called Dan's other sister, V.V. who lived in Auckland to tell her that I'd be coming a week early, and why.

After that all I could do was wait. I was in Wellington and I wanted to explore it and have fun with A.V. and her friends and I did, but it was often from a strange and ghost-like point of view. When I wasn't with A.V. I would walk around the city, getting lost trying to find internet facilities or Te Papa.
Travelling alone can sometimes mean not talking for hours, sometimes days on end. Often while I was travelling the only break in silence I'd have would be to make reservations for hostels or bus rides and the occasional chat with other travellers.
I'd think about Chez and envisage her running off the building.

It was sunset, the pool reflected the rainbow sky as the walked up the stairs calmly. She smiled at the people passing by, wet from swimming, they were on their way down from the rooftop pool. They smiled back and continued on. Once on the roof the savoured the sunset over Dallas, breathing deeply, feeling everything inside of her come alive. She wanted to say goodbye but knew that she could not speak to her friends so she texted a few instead. " I screamed your name into the sunset" she wrote to her best friend, her closest companion. Her friend smiled, feeling loved when she read it.
Then Chez walked to the far end of the pool, away from the ledge. She breathed deeply again and ran as fast as she could, jumping as far as she could, she thought of everything at once. Flying, falling fast to and end.

I thought about her but couldn't really imagine her dead. I hadn't spoken to her in years, I'd been travelling and our group of friends had split off to various colleges or paths in other cities. She'd been going through alot and had checked herself into a few clinics, for eating disorders, depression, anxiety, for the terrible thoughts in her head that she could not believe but could not expell. I found her friendship unattainable and so did not try very hard to know her. My closest friends were her closest friends and they were all in love with her but it did not seem to me that she was able to love them in return and I only wanted friends that could. She was thoughtful though and she felt deeply for the pain of others. If you were sad she'd send a letter or possibly a stuffed unicorn, her totem animal.
She was beautiful and mysterious and too succeptable to the whims of her depression. It seemed like she was constantly trying something new to make it go away but after a while did not believe that anything would make the intense sadness go away.

Her memorial was amazing and enriched with her personality. The turn out was huge, from people who'd known her her whole life to those who'd only met her a few weeks before.
There were readings from her journals and her poetry, her father spoke about her as a child and how much they loved her, her brother played a song he wrote for her on his guitar, a few friends came up and remembered funny stories and one played the first song that she'd learned on the piano, which Chez taught her. She wore a hat with bear ears while she played. It was whimsical and deep and perfect. Seeing how many lives Chez touched and how deeply really amazed me. Of course everyone speaks well of the dead, everyone remembering perfection and Chez was surely not perfect. She'd still be here if she was.
I was glad I come home early for it becuase it showed me that her death was real and helped me come to terms with her decision. It was her decision and it was planned, not a sudden jump but I didn't feel it until I looked at the order of service and read "In memory of Chesleigh Pafford". It was there on a piece of paper, written by someone for her memorial. It was real now.

Child Labor

Accepted

I'm moving to New Zealand!

Thou art mumbling, sir

Calvin: "Hey (mumble), could you (mumble)?"
Taylor: "What?"
Calvin: "Could you (mumble something, sounds like opside flangly doo)
Taylor: "Flangly doo? What? What are you saying??"
Calvin:"I'm saying clean the fucking floor!!
Taylor: "In what language?"
Calvin: "In English! Jesus!"
Taylor: "Didn't sound like English to me."
Calvin: "It's the goddamn Kings English, alright?"

Mature Love

"The philosophy of mature love is marked by an active awareness of the good and bad in each person. It is full of temperance, it resists idealization, it is free of jealousy, masochism, or obsession, it is a form of friendship with a sexual dimension, it is pleasant, peaceful, and reciprocated (and perhaps explains why most people who have know desire would refuse its painlessness the title of love."

-Alain de Boton from the book On Love

Conversation at work

"You think thats weird, Cub had a paper towel stuck in his ear for 2 years!"
"What? A whole peper towel or a part of it?"
"It was just a peice of one. He was on a camping trip with his dad and he was snoring so loudly that Cub couldn't sleep so he stuck paper towels in his ears. Two years later his ear is really hurting so he asks his friend to look in it 'cause he feels like there's something stuck in there. His friend gets a flashlight and see's something so he gets tweezers and pulls out a gnarly looking piece of paper towel. Said he could hear better after that."
"Dear God, thats disgusting."

It was a slow day at work, so we spent most of the day talking to each other, telling stories and asking rhetorical questions when my manager suddenly smiled. He had a good one:
"what would you rather give up, Cheese or sex?"

I snorted "thats not a good question! Everyone would give up cheese!"
"But cheese is so good, think about how much you eat it"
"Actually, dairy usually makes me sick so I hardly ever eat cheese"
"oh"
"That doesn't matter though because sex is better than cheese and you should know that"

Frown-Mouth

I was working yesterday, making batches. Making batches means that you stand in the back room, the "batch room" as it's called, listen to cd's of your choosing at whatever volume you prefer and bake cookie dough for hours.
I usually welcome a batch day because it's an easy self-paced job that creates little stress. It can be a little lonely, however. They keep the batch makers somewhat isolated so that they won't make mistakes on measuring or lose track of how much of something you've added to the dough. If you work a 6-8 hour shift it can be a little too much time alone. Usually, though, I enjoy my time in the batch room and can expect a few drop-ins from my fellow employees depending on the music I've selected.
Yesterday though, after only being there for an hour I began to have glum thoughts. "Glum thoughts!" you might say. "I didn't think you had those!" Well it's true that I rarely do but lately I've been a little overwhelmed with unhappy things that are beyond my control. A few examples:

1)Dan leaving the country
2)Today, recieving a utility bill for $244.oo, 200 of that for deposit.
3)Never having as much money as I need
4)My bike tire busting for the 3rd time in a month and the breaks on that bike screeching all the time
5)Owing money to a friend(never having the money I need)
6)Owing money to my parents(never having the money I need)

As well as those things I've been without a phone since I moved here and it's become a huge inconvenience. No, Chris, I don't need advice about that. I'm waiting for the phone Dan sent me to get here so that I can be in the loop and stop spending so much unnecessary time alone.

I also started thinking about Chez, a friend who commited a rather dramatic suicide 6 months ago. I don't think about it very often but when I do it's often at an unusual time and I always have an image in my head. I'll write about her later.

I'll be waving bye bye to my frown-mouth within a week and from then on, my best friend is coming in town for 4 days, I'm getting my paycheck, I'm going camping...Yeah things are gonna perk up.

Win-Win

"So, Dan doesn't say 'I love you'" I told Colleen.

"You guys haven't said 'I love you'? You've been going out for a year!"

"Actually, we've each said it once, at different times. But he tried to take his back and mine was kind of an 'I care for you'. Nothing momentous. So, no, we haven't really."

"Any particular reason?" she wondered

"Well, for the first 8 months we didn't take it very seriously since we didn't really know where it was headed and we both didn't think we had much in common. I mean we always got along well but it's hard to really get into a relationship that seems likely to end at a specific time. But then he was able to visit before he went to Mexico, and when he got the visa to work here for 3 months the mood of the relationship shifted a little. Basically, no one wanted to say it at all for the first the months, it didn't occur to either of us to want to. Actually I've heard it so many times, too soon that I was afraid he'd say it and I'd have to push him in a ditch and never talk to him again. But he didn't and here we are at 14 months feeling pretty good about where we are with each other." I sat back feeling sweet as a sunflower about the whole thing.

"But why don't you say it now?"

"Oh, well actually I wondered about that myself. I didn't say it because it didn't really seem necessary. I know I like him a lot and if I'm willing to even think of moving to another country then he knows it too. I like that we're not dramatic or serious and I sort of think saying it at this stage would ruin things a bit. But I know he's never said it to anyone so I asked him about it before he left. Actually his answer really got me thinking, I've been meaning to run it by you"

"Oh yeah?" she sat up, interested.

"Well he said he won't say 'I love you' to a girlfriend until he's engaged. It's like saving it for marriage. What do you think?" I asked

"Wow, what a novel idea. I've never heard of anyone doing that before, but it seems so obvious!"

"Yeah that's what I thought. I really liked his reasoning actually. People are often saying that the word love is bandied about too often, this seems like such a perfect solution. I tell you, if I ever get into another relationship I'm sticking to that ideal, I think it's great."

"I don't know how well some people would take it" she laughed, looking doubtful

"Well I'll know the guys that can't take it are not worth it, so it'll double as a sort of weeder. I like a level head in a companion and I don't want to say love to anyone and regret it later. It's win-win."

Did you know:

Before prohibition in America there were no mixed drinks, people typically drank liquor straight.
During prohibition in the 1920's homemade alchohol was so strong and terrible tasting that people began using mixers so soften the burn.
Just think without prohibition there would be no Fuzzy navel, no Cuba Libre, no Sex on the beach. No outrageously expensive bar cocktails!

Is it Valentines Day?

"Oh Darling, I feel as though the sun shines only for us today!"

Will There Ever Be a Rainbow?

When all is said and done

When the buildings fall and crumble
and all is said and done
the cockaroaches will come out
to rule the world of none.

With tiny feelers pointed straight
they'll touch and taste the dust
and drink the water filled with rubble
and tinted red with rust.

Invincibly they'll roam the land
they'll skitter to and fro
invading all that men built up
and reaping what we sow.

The night before I was meant to leave Nelson for Wellington,(and then Auckland, and then the airport)I found myself at the second going-away party thrown by my friends, fellow barstaffers and the bars owner. It began as a pleasant evening, though somewhat dampened by a friends absence.

Earlier in the day I'd gone to visit her at work and found her pale faced and hunched.

"What's wrong Val?" I wondered

"Ohh, just feelin' a bit sick" She said. Because of her thick scottish accent the words sounded delightful though the meaning of them was less so.

"I've bloody thrown up twice today; my brother's sick as well"

I worried about what this meant for my party, since Val was often a good person to have around when you wanted to encourage people to be funny and loud by way of booze. On top of that, if both she and her brother were sick then that meant that her friend and roommate, Maggie, would be taking car of them instead of making things more interesting at the party.

"I'm sure you'll feel better soon" I felt selfishly hopeful.

"Oh, I hope so, I feel like shite, I'm fuckin' projectin' from both ends." she lay on the floor "Oh Madge, I'm sorry. I hope I'll get better by tonight so's I can go to your party but at the mo' I'm not sure I can even stay at work."

"Can I get you..." I watched Val jump from the floor and run down the hallway to the bathroom.

Sounds of vomiting followed. My optimism waned and when she came back I had given up the idea of convincing her to come reguardless of vomit. Instead I called her friend who came to pick her up and hugged them both goodbye, careful to make sure no microbes got into my mouth.


The party was fun reguardless. My boss stayed for a few drinks, told a few of those irish stories that have unpredictable endings and then left, leaving the tab open for us to abuse.

The next day I was awoken by my friend A.J. whose house I'd ended up in. He reminded me that I had a bus to catch and could not be late.
I looked around the room, groggy, unbalanced and still drunk. Rick was laying on the mattress next to me, looking pleased that it was not he who was getting up.
As I stood up I knew it would not be an easy day. I fell back down with the hope that circumstances would change but alas, A.J. showed up a few minuts later.

"I've put your things in my car, are you ready to go?"
I groaned, said goodbye to Rick and made my way to the car.

Once on the bus I felt a little more relieved. At this was familiar territory.
I'd just spent the last month travelling alone around New Zealand by way of bus. Most of that time was spent alchohol-free, but at one point I'd stayed with Val's friends in Queenstown. They were 5 Scottish and Irish lad's that seemed to drink endlessly, eat little and rarely sleep. I'd spent the bus ride leaving Queenstown, much like this one, trying not to make a scene.

I kept my sunglasses and hat on and succeeded in trying to sleep. The ride wasn't long enough for me recover (1 hour as opposed to one day) but I was able to enlist the bus driver to carry my big box to the ferry luggage check-in, something that would have been difficult whether or not I was sick.

I had an hour to wait and I utilized that time by throwing up stomach acid in the public bathroom. I'd reached the point of not caring about public opinion as soon as I'd gotten on the bus. Survival was most important.

After a while the ferry came and I found a quiet seating area in which to lay back and visualize a calm stomach. By this time I was very hungry and very, very thirsty but I knew it was unlikely I would be able to eat for a while.
I took a sip of water which made my acid-torn throat feel good.
The ferry set out and I felt optimistic about the trip. The ferry rocked to one side. It rocked to the other. I clenched my teeth and felt the water I'd drunk sloshing around, aggrivating my insides.
For the 300th time I questioned why I'd gotten so drunk the night before I had an important trip to make. Why Madge, you upchucking fool?

I reached the bathroom, threw my backpack into a stall and shut the door.
As I threw up I heard a strange noise from the stall next to me. It sounded familiar...

The moment struck me with compassion and a bizarre feeling of sisterly love* as we threw up simultaneously to the sound of spashing waves against the rocking boat.




*Perhaps this feeling is familiar to anorexics?

I got 99 problems and you are one

I was falling asleep in bed after a long day at the sushi restaurant where I worked. It was a busy Friday, and my shift that began at 10:30 a.m. ended, at last, at 12 a.m.

Hart, who had spent another solid day as a jobless man, came in and laid down next to me.

I already knew what was coming, but I hoped that perhaps he would leave me to sleep instead of asking me for sex, as he did every night.^*

We talked for a little while; I told him about work and the comically sexist things my Japanese boss yelled and he told me how much he'd saved by buying pot from our friend's roommate down the street. He began cuddling me closer; I knew what was coming and I dreaded it.

"Hey," he whispered in my ear. "Wanna have sex?"

"I really don't want to," I whispered.

"Why not?"

Not wanting to site the overused "I'm too tired," as a reason, I opted for one of the many other choices available.

"Calvin, Shoop, Carson and Steg are all sitting right outside the door."

"They won't be able to hear us; we can be really quiet"

"We don't have a door, they definitely will hear us. Hell, they can probably even see us."

"Come on, they won't even know." He was grinning.

I felt annoyed that he was persisting and more annoyed that I'd not only been asleep, I'd had to work while he'd sat around the apartment watching movies and smoking out.

"Anyway I'm tired from working all day and I still have a yeast infection." I rolled over and closed my eyes to show how sleepy I was.

"You can't still have one."He said, crowding me against the wall."You know, sex would probably help it go away."

I was incredulous. "I'm pretty sure it irritates and makes it worse. Sex and dairy: both bad for the infection. Aside from making it worse in the long run it's also painfully uncomfortable to do it with an infection."

Surely this information would soften his demand; he cared for me and surely would not want to coerce me into sex that was painful! That would make it unenjoyable for both of us!

"Aww, baby, I didn't know that." He gently kissed the back of my neck. "I'll have to be quick then."

I rolled back over and used the wall as a brace as I pushed him off the bed with my feet.

"What?" Hart said from the floor.

Turning back to the wall, I pulled the banket over my head and shut my eyes.

Sometimes when you ignore a problem, it does go away.



^*Before I continue, I feel that I must say that I enjoy sex when the pleasure and amount of energy put in is reciprocal, when it does not become a chore, and when I am not guilted or badgered into it, especially if I am on my period or perhaps have a yeast infection from having terrible sex too often.

The hardest button to button

I chose a button up shirt to wear today and as I was walking down the street I realized it had come open; it's shiny white buttons had been no match for my heaving bosom. I was thankful to have had a camisol on underneath but, discouragingly, it was not the type of garment you'd wear if you felt like retaining modesty. I might as well have been wearing nothing.
Slightly abashed, I rebuttoned the shirt and kept myself aware of any sudden breezes. This happenstance reminded me of a smiliar situation which occurred about a year and a half ago while I was at my new job:
I was hosting at a very busy, very crowded sushi restaurant that I'd worked at for 2 days so far.
I was cleaning tables, seating customers, and generally keeping on my feet when I noticed some funny looks from the customers. The men looked amused and slightly entertained while the women looked embarassed and slightly entertained. Had I spilled something weird on my shirt? Was there rice in my hair? I looked down to find the source of amusment and saw that my shirt was wide open, black bra on display for the enjoyment of all! I ran to the bathroom, laughed at the mirror, rebuttoned and (with the help of a safety pin) went back to work.
No one said a thing about it, unlike the time, months later, that I spilled a tray of drinks down my front.

I guess what I'm getting at is, does anyone have a safety pin?

A memorable conversation

"Hey Hart, how're you doing?"
"Getting by," he said wistfully. "How 'bout you Madge?"
"Pretty good, I got a raise at work, been hanging out with (good female friend) alot . . . keeping busy."
"Oh wicked, I'm totally happy for you!" He paused. " But I've missed you."
"Oh?" I shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, me too . . . I mean, we used to see each other every day, so that's reasonable. But you know why I had to move out, right?"
"Oh, totally!"
"Because we talked about it for a long time, and--"
"It wasn't the right place for you," he said with understanding.
"Yeah! Exactly! I mean you and Steck like it, but I just felt weird having that guy who stole from you sleep in the closet and the strangers dropping by to smoke out at 3 a.m... I mean of course, most of them weren't strangers to you, it was just that I didn't know them . . . plus we couldn't stop fighting so . . . "
He grinned happily and I stopped talking, feeling confused. He said he got it.
"Do you want a drink?" I asked.
"I'd rather get a kiss from my baby" he said, grinning.
"I've got Fresca--what?" I stared at him, tense.
He hovered in on me, still grinning. "Can I get a kiss from my baby?"
"Remember the conversation we had five days ago!?" My voice became shrill. "You said you remembered!"
"Yeah," he said, missing the point. "You moved out, it's not like we broke up."
"We did break up! What are you talking about?"
He laughed. "But not really."
I screamed, aghast for two reasons:

(1) It had taken alot of agonizing and bad nights between us for me to leave him in the first place. I'd left a week before the actual breakup, saying I had to think about things, which I did. Once out of the dirty hole of an apartment, my thoughts became as clean as (close female friend)'s apartment, which I moved into temporarily. He was dragging me down and he was selfish!
(2) On the day of the break up, I'd talked so much without being heard that I was over the whole thing and found it easier to distance myself emotionally than he did.
I was rational and logical.
He was sobbing.
"You don't even caaaare!" he yelled, tears welling in his eyes. "You're killing me; you don't care how much your hurting me"
"You didn't care when I cried," I said, zipping up my suitcase.
He threw himself face first on the single mattress that lay on the floor (the bed we used to share) moaning.
"I told you I wanted to travel when we met, it's not my fault you spent all your money on weed," I said matter-of-factly.
"I thought you loved me!" he sobbed. "If you loved me you'd stayyyy!"
I laughed; this was the oldest trick in the book!
"I did love you," I said, feeling disgusted all the more because it was true. "If you loved me you would want me to travel."
I looked around the room. There was plenty still to pack but I didn't want to hang around any more.
"I'll get the rest later, when you're working." I sighed, throwing a bag over my shoulder. Then I tugged my suitcase to the living room and said goodbye to his friends who were sitting just outside the door, as usual.
I was triumphant and proud of myself for not losing my cool or getting angry. Which is why I was so pissed that he didn't even seem to remember it happening."We DID break up!" I yelled
His eyes welled up in a familiar way, and I showed him the door.

*Republished with edits by Christopher Zane

I was riding my bike around Austin's Hyde Park listening to Yo La Tengo and enjoying the effects of dusk on a pleasant evening when the strong smell of pot hit me.
Suprised, I turned sharply to see if I could spot the stoners but only succeeded in falling embarassingly off my bike. Tonight I learned there is such a thing as being too curious.

With friends like you who needs friends?

I recently joined the Austin Unitarian Young Adult group, also known as YARN, which meets every Wednesday. I've only been to a few meetings but am not nessesarily new to the group since I was raised Unitarian and was quite involved in my high school youth group(YRUU). Many of the people from YRUU now attend YARN meetings and I know them all pretty well. Thats how I was able to identify Selma, a new person who showed up this week.

I also identified her as a sort of hippy nerdly type by her fairly "unique" sense of style;
Perhaps it was the black beret tilted at a jaunty angle, the blue tie dyed shirt topped with a vest, or perhaps the large necklace that identified her as pagan. Of course this didn't mean I didn't like her. God no, people should dress as they please. It was her voice and permanant look of worry on her face that made me wary.

She explained that she'd moved here 6 months ago and was having trouble making friends.
As she spoke I'd decided that while seemed to have nice intentions she tended to go on a bit about her problems and the problems of the world, soon holding the group hostage with her tales of woe.
Eventually side conversations started but I stayed with my face pointed in her direction, possibly trying to give unity to Kay, who had made eye contact with Selma and could not break away. Finally she stopped and other, more interesting people took her place, laughter and joyful tones enlivened once more.

Possibly the saddest part of the night was the end, when we were all washing the potluck dishes and getting ready to leave.
"What is everyone doing now?" Selma asked, "do you guys want to do something else?"
"I have to go home!" I said in alarm and I excused myself by way of Dan, who would be getting off work soon and would have to be let into the apartment since he didn't have a key.
While the others mumbled about heading home as well, I jumped on my bike and pedaled away, cheerfully listening to The Beatles.

It's not that I don't sympathise with Selma. It can be very difficult to make friends in a town where you have no one, something I learned from personal experience. After a while your willing to be friends with anyone, you're not in a position to be choosey and unfortunately they are. My advice to Selma is to use this extra time to become more interesting.

Based on a Dream

We were drunk and playing around, just having fun, taking pictures.
Then he brought out a camera with film in it, that he said showed the real you.
It sounded strange, but we were drunk, so we said yes, though the happy way our voices echoed made them sound hollow.
From then on, nothing we did was really us.
We were like people trapped in a nightmare of uncomfortable feelings and actions.
We were not joyfully drunk, but we couldn't stop acting and just be what we were. Scared and sober.

He shot the whole roll, and the next day took it to be developed and I agreed to pick them up, since I owed him a favor.
We all agreed not to look at them without each other.
But that was hard for me. I would casually knock the envelope open, and look without touching. I didn't see much, just something dark and a little unfamiliar. My curiosity rose, so I quickly flipped the envelope shut, cutting off our interest, and put it in my bag.

To take my mind off of the pictures, I went to the mall, to try on a dress I'd seen the other day.
While I was there I met a man who would not stop chatting me up. He was too friendly, with a perpetual smiling face which blackened my mood considerably. His cheerful voice and my mood reminded me of what I glimpsed on those pictures. I pushed it out of my mind and instead went to try on an armful of clothes. The man continued talking to me, even when I shut the door for privacy; He was incorrigible.
" So, you trying on clothes? I love clothes! Some people call me a clotheshorse even! Cause I have so many different kinds you see! Haha! Imagine a man loving clothes so much! All those clothes you got, you must be a clotheshorse too, huh? Seems like we have a lot in common, oh hey, what’s this! You dropped some photo here, nothing too racy I hope! Haha! Hope you don't mind if I take a peek?" I hesitated as I heard the envelope open. I should stop him.
"They aren't things you should look at,” I warned, but it was too late. I heard him gasp, the envelope of photos came shooting under my dressing room door and he was gone. Feeling maliciously satisfied I put them in my bag and left the store.

This worried me.

Back at home I put the package on the coffee table, and sat on the couch, thinking. He came to watch it as well. And so we waited for the others to get home.
``````````````````````````
Then I woke up.

Flat White guy

Not long ago I began a job at a just-opened restaurant/bar/cafe called HOA. According to the owner the idea of blending a coffee bar, restaurant and booze bar was revolutionary. "You can come in, have a few drinks from a full bar, have a nice big dinner and relax with a coffee after word" he would say, eye brow raised towards me, as if sharing a special secret. "Revolutionary".

After a few months we began getting regulars, especially for coffee. We were the only place in town that served a brand called Havana, which had a very distinct and strong flavor. Perhaps it was highly addictive as well, because many of the coffee regulars would come in 2 or 3 times a day for double or triple shot flat whites, lattes, cappucinos...etc. For those of you who do not know what a flat white is, it's a double shot of espresso with little foam and about half the milk of a latte. It's a strong milky coffee basically.
At some point a tall, nervous man who looked to be a house painter started coming in. At first it was 2-3 times a day, but very quickly we began seeing him 4,5,6 times a day. Always a flat white, sometimes with an extra shot. Flat White guy spoke quickly, drank quickly and smiled a twitchy smile as he sprinted in and out of the bar. We never discovered his name and one day just stopped coming in, just like that. Maybe he moved, maybe he had a massive heart attack, we'll probably never know. But what we can certainly be sure of is his pee reeked incredibly of espresso.

Today while we were at a local pita restaurant waiting for the owner to show up so that we could ask for jobs at the local pita restaurant D and I saw a homeless man in a wheel chair. He was struggling up a driveway and his task looked difficult, tugging ever so awkwardly at our heartstrings. Having beaten the drive the man then wheeled over to a Catholic church, let his legs down from their resting place and stood up. "Hey, he can walk" D said, eyebrows raised. "Seems like it would have been easier for him to push the wheel chair up that drive way instead of using his arms to push the wheels the regular way". "Maybe he's got Arthritis, working out,hiding the fact that he's not crippled... or something" I said, reaching. We watched the man walk over to the front of the church,shuffle behind a bush, pull down his pants and pee against the wall. Now my eyebrows were raised, "thats a church!" I exclaimed. Dan laughed "isn't that a mortal sin? Thou shalt not pee on a place of worship?"

Whose towel is this?

I was finishing up a shower when I realized I didn't have a towel to dry off with. I didn't want to run around wet and shivering to look for one and luckily I didn't have to; my boyfriend, D, was in the next room. I yelled me towel problem to him and he obliged.
"what a nice guy" I though" to pause in his reading and look for a clean towel when for me. What a thoughful, considerate ki...wait a second, this towel smells like sweat, like body odor, like D after he's been running!" I ran into the other room holding the towel in front of me as evidence. "is this the towel you use to wipe off sweat after you've been running?!"
He looked up from his book distractedly to squint at the towel which I was holding in front of his face. He looked as if he were not sure if this, a pink and blue towel was the towel he used to wipe sweat off or if it were, perhaps a different towel. Maybe yellow and red?
"Hmmm, maybe?"
"Smell it"
"Hmmm yeah, probably" he smiled "why do you ask?"
I looked at him, not sure if he was serious or if he'd given me the towel on purpose.
"what?" he asked, still grinning.
I gave up deciding and opted for dropping the towel on the floor, getting a clean one from the closet and taking another shower to wash off his old sweat. He stood in the doorway watching me
"what?"