Saturday, May 14th, 2011

Saturday, May 14th, 2011

Woke up. Fell asleep with a ball point pen on the mattress. Was relieved it didn’t stab me in the eye. Got up. Urinated. Went to Star Market to see if I had a drawing in the Herald. No. Saw an overweight, fortyish woman on the sidewalk that I spoke to once for ten minutes about four years ago. She had a bubblegum pink backpack and her stomach stuck out further than her breasts. Had the following conversation with her:

WOMAN: Hey, D.L., I haven’t seen your artwork up on the street lately.

D.L.: I got into some legal trouble, but I still put them on bulletin bo-

WOMAN: (Interrupting) I’ll pray for you.

D.L.: (Short pause) I don’t . . . really . . . care about relig-

WOMAN: (Interrupting) Jesus loves you!

D.L.: (Short pause. Thought about telling her how fucking stupid and delusional I think it it is to think Jesus is anything but a man who died 2,000 years ago and that he has absolutely nothing to do with us now, but decided it might prolong the unpleasant exchange when I want to get breakfast, not having eaten since before my film editing the evening before) Thank you, I’ll . . . uh . . . keep that in mind.

WOMAN: (In a perky, energetic voice) Have a nice day!

Walked away. Got breakfast at a nearby sub shop. The breakfasts looked too unhealthy so I got a falafel roll-up and a vitamin water. Sat there watching sports news on ESPN on the restaurant’s TV. Asked them if I could change the channel since the only other person in the restaurant was facing away from the TV and talking on her smartphone. They said no, so I didn’t put my used dish in the bucket. Left the restaurant. Saw the woman I talked to on the street an hour ago protesting in front of Planned Parenthood. Crossed the street so I wouldn’t have to walk past her. Put some artwork on the counter in the entrance of Angora. Took the train to BATV. A college student wouldn’t let me sit in the empty window seat next to him. Thought about climbing over him and sitting there anyway, but decided he might punch me in the face. Sat on the back stairs. Went into BATV. Someone in the elevator smelled like compost with spices shaken on it. Checked my email. Edited my movie for an hour and ten minutes. Took the train back home. Watched “Sex Drive” and some of the extras on DVD. Ate Hagaan Dasz chai ice cream. Called four people. Got one live person. Had conversation I can’t talk about. Reread “One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest”. Got to a part I remember and didn’t like so I started writing palindromes in the margins of the book. Went out to go shopping. Don’t remember what I bought. Something happened I can’t talk about. Got a peach Snapple at Cookin’ Cafe. Sat there for twenty minutes after I drank it. Walked around aimlessly. Went back home. Urinated. Went to bed.


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