Longish weekend...
OK, please to forgive on the lack of posts since last week, it's been an exceptionally busy several days:
So they're resealing and restriping the parking lot at my inner-city housing project, and naturally, wherever a public project like that intersects with my life, havoc ensues. Project was supposed to be finished in two days, but due to rain on the second day, they took an extra day. Fine, except that I have to park like a block away and walk over to the car every time I need to go out. Then, when they finally get the job done, and there's allkinds of things wrong with the job (in my opinion): one of my stripes (the one on the left) is painted in two strokes instead of one (with a visible and unsightly overlap zone), and is perhaps as a result, crooked. It also extends beyond the chalk line where all the other lines end, and is thus about 8 inches too long. There's a dollop of tar/asphalt that uncannily resembles a turd melted and solidified in a spot directly behind my right rear tire. The numbers are all painted willy-nilly: the stencils they use are incinsistent from space to space (there seem to be no fewer than three "2" stencils, some of which may or may not be upside-down "5"s, two different "8"s, two different "1"s, at least two different "7"s, basically it appears they just mixed and matched a couple/few sets of stencils and went crazy with no regard for continutity or uniformity. My inner OCD/anal retentive persona is mortified. And I'm constantly reminded of how much it bothers me every time I park my car. Grr! Deep breaths, calm blue oceans...gotta let go...
Thursday, Cinco de Mayo, was somewhat eventful; Numerologists will tell us it was 05.05.05 (05^3?), one of those interesting dates to write...Geeky, I know, but hey. Fitness Kel stopped by quasi-unannounced (she still has keys to the place and will drop things off for the roommate), in that she tried calling me, but I'm having service issues with my cell phone (no voicemail and inability to send text messages...receiving them is working), and she wasn't able to reach me. As a result, she comes walking up the stairs as I'm sitting around in my bixers, watching TV and chowing down on cold pasta. Nice. Had a lovely chat with her, then bid her godspeed on her road trip to the ATL for the Mother's day weekend. Visited with L for a bit shortly thereafter, then met T out for drinks...got to meet her friend Theresa (Teresa?), who is supposed to be this wild child. Sure enough, by the time I get there around 11pm, she's stumbly drunk and will not shut up about how gorgeous I am and is it okay with T if she kisses me (repeat 5x). Anyway, it was a good time regardless, and quite amusing to boot.
T spends the night, as she's off Friday, and we enjoy the day together. Dined at a waterfront (Lake Wylie) place just over the border into SC, T-Bones. Quite a nice establishment, the crab dip was delicious, accompanied by absolutely heavenly garlic bread. My mushroom swiss burger was quite sad, however. No more than eight sorry little pieces of canned mushrooms, sitting forlornly atop the most anemic hamburger patty I've seen since the Chicago public shool system. Yum! Afterwards, took a walk down to the marina on the NC side of the bridge, singlehandedly resurrecting my desire and intense need to get a boat, or at least get in with some people who also want one. A medium-sized (23' or so) cabin cruiser, ideally. But I digress...
Friday evening, we decide to stop by the club to see what's going on, but it's completely dead, not a thing going on. We cut out after a little over an hour, and head over to my new favourite hangout, The Graduate, a bar and grill near my place. We'd been there the night before after parting ways with Theresa/Teresa and her date, and there we were served by a most delectable young (mere weeks away from her 21st birthday) thing named Michelle. Due to my inability to hear people, combined with a need to flirt with any girl with a cute ass, when I couldn't hear her say her name, I made a tremendous project out of asking her to repeat it (I swear, she said "Mick-elle" the first few times). So much so that she quickly became exasperated, turned around, scooted up her shirt, and pointes at the very poorly-inscribed "Michelle" tattoo on the small of her back. It's at this point that I notice she's got these cute little ass dimples, and is wearing what may well be the shirtest, clingiest shorts in the tri-county area. I'm absolutely stunned, and make it a point to either ask her to show us the tattoo every time she walks by, or pull her shirt up a little whenever she's bent over to help or speak to the couple at the table next to ours. To her credit, she didn't once slap me or threaten to have us forcibly removed. At one point, I even went so far as to tell her that she shouldn't take this the wrong way, and I'm normally not this much of a pervish clod, but those are the hottest shorts I've ever seen in my adult life, and she should be allowed to wear nothing but them for as long as we both shall live. To my utter disbelief, rather than clocking me, she replies, "Why thanks, I do wear them for a reason, you know". Upon our return the next night, we sit at the same booth, but are helped by another waitress. However, I don't feel that this should preclude me from stopping her every time she walks by, and continue with the shirt thing every time she helps this same table next to us. Life is good.
Saturday is devoted to catching up on a few things here and there...cooked a little, did some laundry, got a couple tasks completed, lounged a little, met T to head to the club at around nine, got ready and arrived at a little before 10. Not super busy, but a good crowd, saw some acquaintances, hung out, generally had a good time. Drank a bit, smoked a little and was generally feeling pretty good. Finally got home around 7am, where I promptly crashed and slept til noon.
Sunday, prior to leaving for the LKN, was looking for my digital camera, when I remembered that I'd loaned it to the roommate to take some pictures at a wedding on Friday, but she's gone out of town for the Mother's day holiday. I call the number where she's staying to ask if my camera was here where I could still grab it and bring it with, but there's no answer. Grr. Decide to take the bike up the the resort, head over to Fitness Kel's (remember, she's out of town) to see if there was a roommate (she's got four, I think) around to let me in the garage. No go. I try calling her to see if there's a home phone I can call to just get someone to let me in the garage for 10 seconds! Also no luck. Grrrrr. By now, an hour's gone by, and I'm going to be late to the ball. So I'm feeling pretty cranky at every plan being defeated for any number of reasons, at what seems like every turn. One thing that always calms me down is small bursts of speed on the interstate. 30+ mile drive to LKN, I should be feeling pretty good, traffic's there, but not badly congested or slowing down, I'm ducking in and out of cars, going at several intervals, well in excess of 100 MPH, when what should I notice rushing up [FAST] in my rearview, but a black Camaro...with the reverse stencil on the hood "ecilop etats". Lovely.
Story continues (and spelling/grammar/punctuation fixes) tomorrow...stay tuned (well, check back then, anyway...no tuning to be had here...)
So they're resealing and restriping the parking lot at my inner-city housing project, and naturally, wherever a public project like that intersects with my life, havoc ensues. Project was supposed to be finished in two days, but due to rain on the second day, they took an extra day. Fine, except that I have to park like a block away and walk over to the car every time I need to go out. Then, when they finally get the job done, and there's allkinds of things wrong with the job (in my opinion): one of my stripes (the one on the left) is painted in two strokes instead of one (with a visible and unsightly overlap zone), and is perhaps as a result, crooked. It also extends beyond the chalk line where all the other lines end, and is thus about 8 inches too long. There's a dollop of tar/asphalt that uncannily resembles a turd melted and solidified in a spot directly behind my right rear tire. The numbers are all painted willy-nilly: the stencils they use are incinsistent from space to space (there seem to be no fewer than three "2" stencils, some of which may or may not be upside-down "5"s, two different "8"s, two different "1"s, at least two different "7"s, basically it appears they just mixed and matched a couple/few sets of stencils and went crazy with no regard for continutity or uniformity. My inner OCD/anal retentive persona is mortified. And I'm constantly reminded of how much it bothers me every time I park my car. Grr! Deep breaths, calm blue oceans...gotta let go...
Thursday, Cinco de Mayo, was somewhat eventful; Numerologists will tell us it was 05.05.05 (05^3?), one of those interesting dates to write...Geeky, I know, but hey. Fitness Kel stopped by quasi-unannounced (she still has keys to the place and will drop things off for the roommate), in that she tried calling me, but I'm having service issues with my cell phone (no voicemail and inability to send text messages...receiving them is working), and she wasn't able to reach me. As a result, she comes walking up the stairs as I'm sitting around in my bixers, watching TV and chowing down on cold pasta. Nice. Had a lovely chat with her, then bid her godspeed on her road trip to the ATL for the Mother's day weekend. Visited with L for a bit shortly thereafter, then met T out for drinks...got to meet her friend Theresa (Teresa?), who is supposed to be this wild child. Sure enough, by the time I get there around 11pm, she's stumbly drunk and will not shut up about how gorgeous I am and is it okay with T if she kisses me (repeat 5x). Anyway, it was a good time regardless, and quite amusing to boot.
T spends the night, as she's off Friday, and we enjoy the day together. Dined at a waterfront (Lake Wylie) place just over the border into SC, T-Bones. Quite a nice establishment, the crab dip was delicious, accompanied by absolutely heavenly garlic bread. My mushroom swiss burger was quite sad, however. No more than eight sorry little pieces of canned mushrooms, sitting forlornly atop the most anemic hamburger patty I've seen since the Chicago public shool system. Yum! Afterwards, took a walk down to the marina on the NC side of the bridge, singlehandedly resurrecting my desire and intense need to get a boat, or at least get in with some people who also want one. A medium-sized (23' or so) cabin cruiser, ideally. But I digress...
Friday evening, we decide to stop by the club to see what's going on, but it's completely dead, not a thing going on. We cut out after a little over an hour, and head over to my new favourite hangout, The Graduate, a bar and grill near my place. We'd been there the night before after parting ways with Theresa/Teresa and her date, and there we were served by a most delectable young (mere weeks away from her 21st birthday) thing named Michelle. Due to my inability to hear people, combined with a need to flirt with any girl with a cute ass, when I couldn't hear her say her name, I made a tremendous project out of asking her to repeat it (I swear, she said "Mick-elle" the first few times). So much so that she quickly became exasperated, turned around, scooted up her shirt, and pointes at the very poorly-inscribed "Michelle" tattoo on the small of her back. It's at this point that I notice she's got these cute little ass dimples, and is wearing what may well be the shirtest, clingiest shorts in the tri-county area. I'm absolutely stunned, and make it a point to either ask her to show us the tattoo every time she walks by, or pull her shirt up a little whenever she's bent over to help or speak to the couple at the table next to ours. To her credit, she didn't once slap me or threaten to have us forcibly removed. At one point, I even went so far as to tell her that she shouldn't take this the wrong way, and I'm normally not this much of a pervish clod, but those are the hottest shorts I've ever seen in my adult life, and she should be allowed to wear nothing but them for as long as we both shall live. To my utter disbelief, rather than clocking me, she replies, "Why thanks, I do wear them for a reason, you know".
Saturday is devoted to catching up on a few things here and there...cooked a little, did some laundry, got a couple tasks completed, lounged a little, met T to head to the club at around nine, got ready and arrived at a little before 10. Not super busy, but a good crowd, saw some acquaintances, hung out, generally had a good time. Drank a bit, smoked a little and was generally feeling pretty good. Finally got home around 7am, where I promptly crashed and slept til noon.
Sunday, prior to leaving for the LKN, was looking for my digital camera, when I remembered that I'd loaned it to the roommate to take some pictures at a wedding on Friday, but she's gone out of town for the Mother's day holiday. I call the number where she's staying to ask if my camera was here where I could still grab it and bring it with, but there's no answer. Grr. Decide to take the bike up the the resort, head over to Fitness Kel's (remember, she's out of town) to see if there was a roommate (she's got four, I think) around to let me in the garage. No go. I try calling her to see if there's a home phone I can call to just get someone to let me in the garage for 10 seconds! Also no luck. Grrrrr. By now, an hour's gone by, and I'm going to be late to the ball. So I'm feeling pretty cranky at every plan being defeated for any number of reasons, at what seems like every turn. One thing that always calms me down is small bursts of speed on the interstate. 30+ mile drive to LKN, I should be feeling pretty good, traffic's there, but not badly congested or slowing down, I'm ducking in and out of cars, going at several intervals, well in excess of 100 MPH, when what should I notice rushing up [FAST] in my rearview, but a black Camaro...with the reverse stencil on the hood "ecilop etats". Lovely.
Story continues (and spelling/grammar/punctuation fixes) tomorrow...stay tuned (well, check back then, anyway...no tuning to be had here...)
posted by Gene at 11:56 PM
1 Comments:
Hey G. Did you notice the stencil on the camaro while you were face down on it being handcuffed??
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