Slightly overcast day in Oakland. Later, Amy is coming by with a green couch that her and her husband want to get rid of. I'm excited to have it but it's going to change the complexion of my apartment. Change is hard. Cat island, two uncomfortable orange wedges are going to have to go. In all likelihood. I'm waiting for her call back to check on the dimensions. But the green couch is a nice couch, and with it I will be able to have more than two comfortable seats. I could invite you and your friends over. We could all sit and laugh at the jokes we make. Or talk seriously about our childhoods. Or sit awkwardly. Or spill juice on each other. Or watch the cats sharpen their claws. Or look at pictures of clowns together, all five of us sitting comfortable. I write "clowns" because when I wrote "claws" I mistyped.
It's hard to type because last Wednesday I got hit by a car. Sounds bad right? It wasn't that bad, but the old lady's side mirror gouged my left ring finger deeply (s,w,x on a qwerty keyboard) and I've got a couple of movement restricting bandages on it. Trying to keep it from getting infected and letting it heal. It's going to leave a funky looking scar, like Greg Norman's shark logo in reverse. The old lady pulled in front of me, turning into a parking lot and cutting me off. It was raining, and I think the bike took the brunt of the blow, because it destroyed her side mirror and all I got was this lousy gash on my finger. She held her hands over her face, head slightly bowed, for a good eight seconds and I motioned for her to pull into the parking lot. I said, "It's alright."
Which it was, though I was pissed off, as I saw it coming, that is, saw her coming and saw her not see me and was unable to stop quickly in the rain. She asked me not to call the police and told me that she was close to home. She repeated that she was close to home, and I'm not sure what she was really trying to communicate by that phrase, as if I was concerned that she was going to hit another biker. But I didn't have time to call the police or insurance or anything like that, as I was being picked up at my apartment in a half hour to go up to the meditation course and needed to buy some pants to sit in that were relatively thin. I asked her for a paper towel which she had, and went into Ahn's 1/4 Burger and got some napkins, which I wrapped around my finger and taped with a band-aid and proceeded to the Gap where I got some comfortable pants for ten dollars. The clerks there didn't seem to notice the bloody wad taped around my finger. The end.
It's hard to type because last Wednesday I got hit by a car. Sounds bad right? It wasn't that bad, but the old lady's side mirror gouged my left ring finger deeply (s,w,x on a qwerty keyboard) and I've got a couple of movement restricting bandages on it. Trying to keep it from getting infected and letting it heal. It's going to leave a funky looking scar, like Greg Norman's shark logo in reverse. The old lady pulled in front of me, turning into a parking lot and cutting me off. It was raining, and I think the bike took the brunt of the blow, because it destroyed her side mirror and all I got was this lousy gash on my finger. She held her hands over her face, head slightly bowed, for a good eight seconds and I motioned for her to pull into the parking lot. I said, "It's alright."
Which it was, though I was pissed off, as I saw it coming, that is, saw her coming and saw her not see me and was unable to stop quickly in the rain. She asked me not to call the police and told me that she was close to home. She repeated that she was close to home, and I'm not sure what she was really trying to communicate by that phrase, as if I was concerned that she was going to hit another biker. But I didn't have time to call the police or insurance or anything like that, as I was being picked up at my apartment in a half hour to go up to the meditation course and needed to buy some pants to sit in that were relatively thin. I asked her for a paper towel which she had, and went into Ahn's 1/4 Burger and got some napkins, which I wrapped around my finger and taped with a band-aid and proceeded to the Gap where I got some comfortable pants for ten dollars. The clerks there didn't seem to notice the bloody wad taped around my finger. The end.
