An old lady was at the end of the checkout lanes when I came in, and she was still there when I left. She looked confused, with too much rouge on her cheeks and a trash bag draped over her (in addition to her poncho and other rain gear). She clutched a small plastic bag full of coins, looking about as if for direction. All was not well or right.
I fear for people more often than I hope for them. I'm not a worrier by any means; I just know how broken everything is. When my faith, hope, and love are low, all I can naturally do is fear for them. We all need something a little unnatural.
I put on a hat before I put on pants this morning. Silly man.
Yesterday I bumped into Bret and Amy (my upstairs neighbors who do the humpty-hump) at Caffe Vita. Bret gave me a side hug, which was unprecedented and unexpected. I invited them to Enterprise on Wednesdays. This could become one of my strangest friendships ever. Cool.
The cable guy brought a replacement cable box yesterday, so I am back in digital video nirvana (not Nirvana-- this would be a Seattle cliche). Since when did the cable people start showing up on time (4:10 pm in a 4-6 pm window)? Somehow, in hooking it up, I ended up with leftover cables this time-- perhaps they have been multiplying behind my television. I kept flipping channels, as if something were enchanting and new since Wednesday night. Silly man.
Connor is taking Winter and me out to Buca di Beppo tonight in celebration of his annual Alaskan dividend. I suggested Vegas, but tend not to push when it's someone else's money. Free food is not to be argued with or about.
A woman (not Miriam) sat down across from me who has almost the same "breakfast" (pan au chocolat and tall latte) as I. She just told her friends that the latte is vanilla, which may be the only deviation (mine is plain, caramel when I'm feeling saucy). And she called it a "chocolate croissant," while I take great joy in saying "pan au chocolat" in a terrible and terribly loud French voice. Silly man.