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indistinguishable contemporary revival
Thursday, September 27 2001
I said loud & clear:
Make no mistake about it.
Make no mistake about it.
Make no mistake about it.
Smoke 'em out of their holes.
Get 'em runnin'
Make no mistake about it.
"Please don't kill me!" (smirk)
Make no mistake about it.
Karla Faye Tucker must turn over Osama bin Laden.
Ah, the joys of the chronically-befuddled giving press conferences, of which I am treated to many during my workdays at home. Unfortunately, the ergonomics of my workstation are not to my liking. In the course of an hour or so, I develop a pain in my left shoulder that must then be massaged back to health. The fist time I suffered from this malady was during the long drive across the United States of America in the Punch Buggy Rust (back in July); those old Volkswagen Beetles do not have any sort of head support at all. The issue of the New Yorker that came out the day of the World Trade Center attack tells me that car seat head supports eliminate 0.13% of automobile accident deaths.
In the evening I walked down to O'Connors on 5th Avenue in Park Slope and drank four Budweisers all by myself, mainly just to see if it's any fun to go to bars alone. I sat at the bar and talked to some girl named Meghan. Today was her birthday and I celebrated by bumming a Parliament cigarette from her. Her fiancé was there, but he was spending all of his time talking to some other girl who happened to be named Gretchen. They were all part of the O'Connors bartending scene. The music playing on the jukebox was, as usual, excellent, comprised mostly of early-70s Brit pop or else songs from its almost indistinguishable contemporary revival.
When I went into the restroom to piss, I accidentally dropped two quarters into the urinal. This was not your usual urinal with a "Don't Take Drugs" red plastic splash guard and scented translucent biscuit (yum!). It was one of those grand old urinals which extends in a lavish porcelain swath all the way down to the floor. I reached down into the drain to gather my coins and found it unexpectedly slimy down there. It's not an easy feeling to wash from your hands.
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