life.. has been... well.... busy
some days ya get the bear,
and then some days the bear grabs ya flips ya over and shoves yer head in the dirt and...
fill in the rest fer yerself.
off meds again.. our wonderful gub'mint done decided that i dont need help again....
head.. not right.. but not too wrong.
life is a daily struggle, but i'm sloggin thru it...
things
will
get better...
anyway.. been out of town a whole lot lately
i want to relate an episode that happened in washington dc a few weeks back..
look, i don't shake, i don't cut and run... and not much creeps me out...
but this one sent my creep-o-meter to the freaking max...
place: washington dc (dulles hilton) ((2nd day of stampshow))
time: approx 1:30 am
so im sitting at the bar (only freaking place to get food at 1:30 in the morn)
can't sleep, really hungry.
40 ish soccer mom plops down in stool next to me... (actually she sorta LANDED in the stool... think neatly caught pop fly)
now this track suited paragon of volvo driving yuppie hood kinda focuses in the general direction of the bartender and says...... mmppffhhhhandtonichnnnntttt........
both the bartender and i just kinda stare at each other as we attempt to figure out exactly which dialect of klingon this woman is using...
in a moment of clarity i ventur a guess, and attempt to translate for the poor bewildered bartender.... "gin and tonic.. neat"
at which point, soccer mom starigtens up focuses on me and says... yeshhh! thas it! shanks....
120 proof fumes wash over me as i think to myself..... holy crap, put cig out or im gonna do a michael jackson......
smoke stubbed out, flaming hair averted, i attempt to bury myself in my menu and avoid attracting the barfly's attention any more...... too late....
in a shocking burst of lucidity, our heroically drunk soccer mom appears to go stone cold stober as she relates her story of woe...
..... i"i can't believe it" she gasps... "my daughters were riding in the elevator earlier and some old guy got on with them and told them that... little girls shouldnt get on elevators with strange men.. thats how they end up missing"
ok... CREEP-O-METER jumps waaay the hell up.......
the bartender leans in as he has been listening as well (his jaw damn near hits the floor) as he says.. could you repeat that??
of course soccer mom repeats her tale (wheeee .... look at me... arent i interesting) and adds the statement that "now my daughters cant sleep.. they are so scared"
now at this point i am thinking to myself
1. what in the fuck were ya doing letting your 12 yr olds running around at midnight... (you should be fucking slapped)
2. why the hell didnt you call the cops??? (slapped.. see above)
3. why the hell arent you in the room with your kids comforting them, instead of getting drunk and telling the bartender and some stranger abou it (forget slapped... kicked in the crotch is more like it!!!)
then it hits me.... true or not..... drunk ass soccer mom is actually trying to pick me up.. looking for a little sympathy thing....... (OHGODHELLNO)
CREEP-O-METER POPS OFF THE FUCKING CHARTS....!
ya know... i'm not that hungry....after all...
god help me .. i cant make this shit up
-dawg
