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2003-04-10 | 8:05 p.m.
corduroy licorice wanted to be the one to cast the first stone in his sculpting class, but some other kid had cast a boulder in bronze a year prior.
my homie forwarded this link that shows that the only thing more wobbly than the statue was the interpretation of the event. i'm surprised it didn't have corporate sponsorship, like IHOP's Liberation of the Week.
i've been feeling a bit confused hearing about all the "jubiliation of a freed people," wondering if maybe the warmongers did something good. then i read pablo and disco dave's latest entries and felt reassured that something that seems so wrong can't be right.
i had a weird thing happen to me during lunch on wednesday. my m.o. is to get take-out food and eat in my car. many of my coworkers can't fathom my hermit pattern at meal time. it may seem anti-social of me, but only because it is. i just like to have a break in the day when i can unplug and relax. i'm not alone in my midday withdrawal. i read once that jodie foster eats in her car, too. and i know my friend l-girl does. i've seen plenty of other parked car eaters, dagnabbit. evidently there are enough of us to inspire hate crimes.
let me explain.
the time was about 1 p.m. i was sitting in my car on a shady side street, post-mixed baby green salad with balsamic vinagrette and an apricot tart. i pulled down my driver's side visor to check my look in the mirror. this involved fixing my hair and checking for stray arugala betwixt me chompers. while i was doing this, i sensed a car in my peripheral vision. it was driving in the oncoming lane, but stopped a couple of yards away from my car. i wondered why it was just sitting there in the middle of the street, but was more absorbed in my grooming duties. the car then pulled forward and i noticed the driver was looking at me with his window rolled down halfway.
he was about 50 and stocky with a scraggly salt and pepper beard. he was also making a mean face and mumbling something at me. i figured he was lost, so looked at him inquiringly.
"you're real proud of yourself, aren't you?" he said sternly.
all i could figure at that point was that he was doing a strangely misguided drive-by flirt, so i nervously smiled and nodded to indicate that yes, i was quite proud and now kindly drive along, won't you schizophrenic sir. he didn't pick up on my nonverbal messaging and kept staring at me piercingly.
"you're real proud of yourself, aren't you?" he spat once more. oh, yeah. there's was glowering going down.
i turned to look forward, away from him, and commenced freaking out. about that time i noticed that three cars were now stacked up behind him, waiting. one finally honked. he paused a bit longer, still mumbling something like, "that's right. that's right." then finally drove away.
just because i eat my lunch in the manner of jodie foster does not mean i want to converse with psychos a la clarice. geez louise. you'd think i'd just polished off a nice roadside chianti and some fava beans.
take a peek at these - (c) 2000-2003 nictate:
quibbling with quitherfeather
catcher in the wry