the wrong side of the bed

Thursday, April 22, 2004

take this spoon

On my walk home from the union today, I had the strangest interaction with a man asking money from me. It went something like this:

"Can I ask you a question?"
"If it's quick, sure."
"I just bought myself a forty, see."
"And I dropped it, just down that street."
"Uh huh?"
"And I only have a dollar seventy five."
"Okay." [already reaching hand into pocket. i appreciate the honesty, you know]
"I just need 75 more cents..."
"This is all I have." [handing over some small change and possibly soda tokens from the office]
"Thank you so much. I'm not a stalker. See this grey hair?" [stroking beard]
"Uh huh?"
"I'm 45. What's your name?"
"Dorotha" [what the hell? probably won't see him again.]
"Mine's Brad. Dorotha, I'm gonna look for you tomorrow. If I see you, I'm gonna buy you a drink. Thanks for helping me. A man needs his drink."
"Sure" [crossing street. beginning to worry.]

And that was it! Weird. So, I was thinking about this as I continued my walk home. Then guess what? I was walking past a tour bus parked next to the back entrance of the Orpheum. Appearantly, the sewage tank on board exploded or something, because it was leaking (somehow uphill) and I was forced to walk through a large, very unpleasant puddle.

After this, I remembered a time that a man made me eat a slice of cheese. It was when I worked at a toy store. He came in after stopping buy the nearby food co-op where he had purchased some smoked provolone. He insisted that I eat it. I resisted for a while, but finally gave in. "Mmm," I said, "Good cheese." It wasn't really good cheese. Plus, he sort of just had the cheese sitting in his hand. He said, "See? I told you you could trust me!" He actually hadn't.

Anyway, that was my walk home.
10:21 PM


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