That girl careening down East Lake Street at 7:41 this morning with her entire right hand in her mouth? That was me. Once again Sweden has betrayed me with its shitty cupholders. This is even more of a problem since my new awesome travel mug is much more top heavy than the previous one (please note the super keen features of the new mug such as the built in french press and the hidden storage compartment for more coffee grounds for more coffee later (or I could hide some blow in there and get me a hooker). Apparently one must never go flying around corners when you have a mug of coffee next to you in a flimsy crapass cupholder. The laws of physics do not take into account such factors as 1) the atm at burger king was broken 2) I had an 8am appointment over on riverside 3) i needed to find the other TCF atm which was on East Lake Street to get out the cash that I would for my various activities.
I’m not one to waste coffee, even if it is on my hand.
The completely perplexed girl at the volvo dealership? me as well. There was some sort of recall on the emissions something or other on my car and I figured that after 2 years and 7 letters it might be time to take it in and get it fixed. Of course they also found something that would cost $520 to fix. I told them to hold off on that.
But why, you might ask, why was I a confused retard? I walked into the lobby looking for the service desk. A very very old and mumbly man came up to me and mumbled something at me. What? He mumbled something about “are you looking for so and so?” I was in fact looking for something, but it wasn’t a person. then he said “if you’re looking for the mayor, he just went that way!”
What the fuck? It is slowly dawning on me that this guy doesn’t work there so he’s not responding in some customer service capacity to my “i’m looking for something” face. He is also old enough to be of the generation when the mayor of a town was pretty big stuff. He was kidding with me! oh that goof! Can’t wait to see what the fucking orderlies think of him down at the nursing home. Jesus, I don’t even think I could pick the Mayor of Minneapolis out of a line up. Could I describe him? “standard white guy, middle age, white, and a guy. Also…standard.”
The girl crying in the vietnamese restaurant in St Paul, that was ME! Went to lunch with my dad and lunch was good. My dad is very concerned and was asking all about things, but then we talked about Ghengis and I lost it. I can keep it together so well around most people, but my dad is awesome and sometimes awesomeness means that it’s easy to cry around him. We talked about my depression at length, he wanted to make sure I was okay, and not like “the only correct answer is to say you are okay”. he was genuinely concerned. It made me cry more, but it made me feel better. He promised to do anything I needed, no questions asked, to help me get past this thing.
girl swearing at a fucking mid-afternoon traffic jam making her late for the next appointment…yeah, fuck it.
If you were driving on West Lake Street, just past Lake Calhoun and you happened to look up at the Calhoun Executive Center (the building with the neon windsurfer thing on it) and you saw a naked dugong on the second floor, that was me.
…some minutes later, that vagina you saw was mine as well.
I always thought it was peculiar that my doctor’s office was in an office building (presumably with gigantic rent) and half of the exam rooms faced out over one of the busiest streets on that side of town. The other exam rooms face Lake Calhoun and are very peaceful. I just think that they should really think about what procedures are going to happen before they assign a room. If it’s an old guy with butt pain, he can be in the room over the street. Fat girl getting a pelvic? Put her over the lake, dammit. Do not subject her or the city to this. The funny thing, however, was that I just didn’t care. I was standing there getting undressed, a little mesmerized by the traffic and it occurred to me that I was getting undressed in front of many people…then I realized I didn’t really care.
By the way, my vagina is fine, thanks for asking.
and lastly, the girl in Barnes and Noble shoving various blank journals into her crochet box trying to find one that would fit with all the other stuff in there. Me too.
Dugong Out.