The phone went off a little after 5am.
It was work, and they needed me to go downtown for a hot one going up to Kenilworth.
Same guy I delivered to a while back.
At 6:30, I found him doing something to a lawn mower as I approached.
"I've been thinking about you."
Rich people are weird.
I went back home for breakfast. Our bathroom ceiling had developed these rusty looking cysts and blackheads. The maintenance man, a friendly scarecrow of a man, would be operating on these all day. So Lauren joined me for the morning portion of work.
It was nice.
During a brief lull, I read her my pieces for the upcoming Death In Yellowstone reading on Friday. Her notes proved helpful, and I learned a lot hearing it aloud.
I will be covering four chapters that night:
Deaths from Accidents or Self-Defense
Murders
Suicides
Missing and Presumed Dead
Fun stuff. For one of the chapters I'll be reprising my cowboy character that was created on a road trip through Wyoming and later refined at The Annoyance and aboard The Norwegian Jade.
It rained all day, making for a lazy lazy afternoon.
With no work going on, I went to Reckless Records. TJ from Rush Limbaugh: The Musical had given me a closing show gift certificate to the store. Unfortunately, I had to piss the whole time I was there, and record stores, like thrift stores, are notorious for not having facilities for customers. I held on and danced, though not to the music.
Found some good stuff: off key wedding band versions of surf and flower power tunes courtesy of The Jalopy Five, Santo & Johnny rip-offs Dan & Dale ("The Sleepwalk Guitars of..."), a Les Paul and Mary Ford compilation, Chuck Berry's "Promised Land" 45 on Chess, a Laverne & Shirley record produced by Michael McKean, a reading of "Casey At The Bat" by Johnny Bench and "Peter & The Wolf" by Tom Seaver with the Cincinnati Pops, and an erotic aerobics record from the mid-80's.
I ducked into a bar to use the bathroom and ended up with a Guinness in front of me. It was only $3.50. I read liner notes and watched the rain until the old man down the bar got enough liquid courage to get racist. Everything was going well. He talked about sports mostly. Then the guy started testing out little racist quotes he had heard "the blacks" say. It was like he was flirting. The bartender, a guy younger than me probably, gave a curt "yeah" and got silent. But then the man said he had a lot more of those and wanted to share.
Hey.
We aren't gonna get raped by your racism.
Zip it, old timer.
I went home early.
I started early.
I went to bed early.
Verdict: Win
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