Sunday, March 05, 2006

Better than our heads, at least.

You could kind of tell that the little Mexican guy on the 49 Western had liquor in the bottle of Coke he was tugging at the whole time he rode. If I had to put money on it, I'd probably say rum, but that might be some subtle racial prejudice. But the way he got all shifty-eyed each time he got ready to drink from it, sort of eyeing the four other people on the bus to maybe decide if he thought we were narcs, and the frequency of the sips, and the look of complete satisfaction he had after each drink, which you only get that look from drinking Coca-Cola on extremely hot days or if there's booze in it; it all added up. Plus the dude had wrapped his bottle in a way-too-large black plastic grocery bag, even though you could see when it poured through the neck that it was a standard Coke-brown liquid.
When I got home I started installing the new shower head I bought, but halfway through had to stop to take a call from a friend on the West Coast in the middle of a suicide attempt. Right now she's probably at the hospital getting her stomach pumped.
The shower head works great.

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