I was trying to find my bank deposit book this morning with no luck. I need it to deposit a large check or else I'll have to cash it. The bank used to issue deposit slips with or without a book, but now they're all hard nosed. They don't want my money. Maybe I'll just open an account somewhere else. That's what my mother would do. But she's hard core.
I noticed that while looking at my face in the mirror today that my crows feet appear to have completely disappeared. I found myself thinking that I haven't looked so young in a long time. And now I don't even have zits.
I went to Dr. Ho's Burritos, a new burrito stand on Elliewood (not to be confused with Two Moons, which will open only a block away at the site of the old Rising Sun Bakery on 14th Street). I ordered the Thai Burrito (it has some funky name like "Sexy Oriental Girl Surprise"). Back at the Dybnashack I devoured it whilst watching teevee. The burrito contained beanut butter, rice, shrimp, and cocoanuts. It was very good, but it should have been spicier. That's too much to ask for in the United States where blandness is virtue, this I know.
I attempted to sleep but failed in the attempt. Polvo was sounding like Chinese music to me and this annoyed me.
I drove the Dart out to the Downtown Mall and hit the Mudhouse briefly. The coffee was good, but the firtive eye contact was pathetic.
Out at the Pantops Shopping Center, I bought ramen and canned soup for the upcoming work week. Then I bought rubber cement at the nearby Revco. The overworked Revco counter lady forgot to remove a security tag from a customer's purchase and the alarm went off. She chased after the customer with remarkable acceleration as she was no doubt trained to do. I couldn't help but notice that her countenace was unlike any one sees in the University District. Pantops is the center of poor white trash Charlottesville, and it shows in the faces of the people who work and shop there. A diet of white bread and twinkies starts the aging process at age 13. Imbreeding causes anomalies in bone structure that are at times cause for staring.
In the evening I had another one of those remarkably good conversations with Elizabeth and Andrew, and to a lesser extent Penley. The topics were wide ranging, but they consistently drew back to the unspoken theme of our superiourity over mere mortals (much like similar conversations between Jessika, Sara and myself during the early days of Big Fun). We discussed for example:
I dreamed about housemate Elizabeth during my pre-work nap. I dreamed that she had an unusally good rapport with an old boyfriend and his new girlfriend. In the dream, she was chatting casually with them across the room while the couple had sex beneath the covers of a bed in a shady corner of the room. At some point in the conversation Elizabeth turned to me and said "They're having sex with somebody" meaning "They're having sex with each other" (and no, she doesn't talk like this in real life).
On my way to work, at Dead Man's Curve on Wertland, I came upon a heated verbal argument going down between Mark and Mike, punk rock regulars at the horrid crash pad. Josh Smith and Josh Mustin were both there, urging calm. I thought maybe somebody had fucked somebodys girlfriend, but the argument was instead about an article of drug paraphernalia.
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