327 Market

FINALLY!  the wealthy donors who are touring the facility are gone and we can get back to work, er, the blog.

I hope they didn't notice how I was stalking the lounge.

We already knew artists were crazy.

I have been running errands today in my car, I feel somewhat guilty about it, but at least we have paper towels and the vacuum cleaner runs.

I was going to say something deep, but all of the anxiety in waiting for those people to leave has erased  my slate.

LAST NIGHT!  Where to begin?  With the three accidents that clogged 17, making me 40 minutes late with my rendesvouz with Wobbly?  Then the mad race to San Guiseppe, trying to find parking downtown, getting stuck in all sorts of eternal intersections.  Finding the only parking in the entire town that charges for evenings?  With his eternally declined bankcard, which meant that we couldn't see the play?  With wondering what to do on a Sunday evening in the crumbling, vacant down town area?  How about the hookah smoking Turks and gorging ourselves on hummus and pita?  Or wading in the forbidden fountain pool?  Or the overly friendly smirnoff lady at the Pub who kept plying us with free things?  Or Wobbly's more-normal-than-you friends (with whom we discussed such rivetting topics as "where did you get that ring?" and "damn!  mortgages are a killer!" ) who were very nice.  Or what about missing the last train out of the Valley?  And then to discover that we can't fit his bike into my car (after totally emptying out the boot) and bidding it a good night and leaving it there to the mercy of the Mutton View thugs!!  OH!  not to mention taking a female whiz au natural cuz there is no where to pee in the middle of the night.  Not to mention the not-so-planned midnight trip to the City?  Or finding out that you can have midnight sushi? (but we weren't hungry)  And then, the, by now, morning, drive out of the city to the sweet boundaries of Flip Flop Town.  Yeah, I want to drive another 70 miles before I sleep.

So, the moral of the story is.... don't skip church to go ... aw dammit, I don't know