Attention U Street Retail Clerks!

Although perhaps, you're well meaning when you say "I've seen you in here before" there is a slight chance that the mildly OCD person hears something else like:

"I see you in here every Saturday at exactly 9:25 am carrying your battered off-white canvas shopping bag and you circle the store clockwise stopping only at the condiments stand and refrigerator case. You never buy anything except on the last Saturday of the month when you buy a jar of Amish peanut butter, paying in cash with the $5.22 already counted out and then you put an extra penny in the change cup because you think odd numbers are safer. See you next Saturday, freak!"

and she's probably right...

More Triangle!

More triangle!  More triangle!

Cab Drivers and Restrooms

On one of those last hot days of September, I decided to treat myself to a cool, relaxing cab ride home. A cab almost immediately stopped and picked me up in front of the Starbucks by work and the driver overshared that he had planned on going into Starbucks to use the restroom. 

"It's a nice restroom" he explained. 

Recognizing the destination intersection I gave him he pointed out that there was another Starbucks one block from my house at U Street and he would find bio relief there instead.

Displaying amazing bladder control on the bumpy ride home, he discussed the cleanliness of various public restrooms. Do not EVER under any circumstance, use the restroom at [Famous Fast Food Place]. Do NOT ask me to repeat the gross, disgusting story I heard.  Cab drivers see and smell it all and rarely plead the 5th.

We finally got to my corner and I hopped out turning right down the street towards my house so he could turn left and head to Starbucks since apparently Starbucks is the Ritz-Carlton of public restrooms. Instead of turning left he spotted some open parking spaces on my street and parked.

In front of my house.

I didn't want to enter my house with him sitting there since technically, if you add up the few working parts of the various bathrooms in my old house I have ONE bathroom and didn't want to feel obligated to invite him to use it so he could diss my bathroom's "open ceiling" look on some Taxi Toilet Tumblr.

Pretending I enjoy a brisk walk on a 95 degree day, I jogged by the cab in the direction of the other end of the block. Finally I see him heading up the street so I walked a little more and then turned around and raced back to my house.

As I approached my house suddenly he appeared. Instead of going to Starbucks he had visited the corner store on my block.

"There's no restroom in there."

I MAY have said something lame like "Yes-but-thank-goodness-they-have-cheap-bottled-water-that-I-buy-there-because-the-water-is-turned-off-in-my-house."

And with that I entered my house where I discovered that coconut oil I had been gradually adding adding to my dogs food had caused some type of intestinal distress. Distress all up and down the hall and stairs and even on some walls. Yes, my hallway looked like the restroom at [Famous Fast Food Place].

Except there was no dead body. 

There you made me tell you.

My iPhone 5!

I felt left out on Metro when everyone became intensely involved with their phones and mine was at home.  Finally I pulled out my brown leather wallet and spent several minutes faux Facebooking, trick tweeting and mock messaging. The highlight was when I loudly took a call and everyone glared at me wondering who I was and what I had done to get a beta version of the Tommy Hilfiger leather iPhone 5.

Decisions, Decisions

I've been in a bit of a funk lately.  Skippy the Licensed Therapist, in between discussing his disastrous kitchen renovation, recommended I return to blogging.  Dr. No, when not discussing Skippy the Licensed Therapist's disastrous kitchen renovation (they are friends) thinks I should return to the gym.   Exercise and writing are similar activities in that they involve people mostly ignoring you, sometimes mocking you and occasionally admiring you.  
Decisions, Decisions...