Overheard today:
A rather fetching little siren in tank-top, shorts and way-too-big headphones, chatting up a wifi-laptop dude at the coffeeshop this morning: "See, like my vocabulary is like, awesome, but, you know..."
Methman tweaking at alternate coffeeshop, later same morning, out loud to himself: "If you wanna bring up electroshock... I'm down with that."
ULTIMATE NON-SEQUITUR OF THE YEAR AWARD:
An even stranger, more eccentric old loner than myself, traveling with his world-in-one-backpack, his beanie pulled low over his forehead... completing a journey to the other side of the crosswalk: "Sound barrier, 1969!"
These are certain signs of The Apocalypse, no?
CHURCH LETS OUT
The coffeeshop I frequent was more interesting than usual this Saturday. Lots of young people, formally dressed, marched through casually and kept the baristas from getting bored. The young men all had on ties and expensive shoes. The ladies wore... is this where church-formal has gone? I gotta start attending again. I think I rediscovered how much I love legs. Though I'm sure there were mace-misters attached to each set of swaying hips. At least this dirty old man can fain harmlessness, seated at a far-off table, hugging a coffee mug. There was a run on choco-lattés and espressos – that's what I seemed to hear repeated with every register-ring. I guess the minister had ended the sermon early, so everyone could get home in time for the Big "R," and they were starting their last day on Earth by getting their gourmet caffeine freak on. If the way those parishionettes were dressed was any clue, I'd say there's some serious after-church commandment-breakin' taking place about now. Damn.
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