ALAS POOR YORICK

There is sadness in 'turkey vulture world', a profound sadness. When I returned home from rat-watching I did not bring him any fatty inner thighs which I should have harvested from late night louts. He points out that he is so scrawny. And hungry, so hungry, he's starving to death, he feels the end approaching, oh lack-a-day, so hungry, so hungry ... !

I am neglecting him. He was expecting a big bag of food.

He has a talent for being melodramatic.


What I did not mention was the drunken Russian woman at the bus stop with a mini skirt, who definitely had some meat on her. Good thighs. A turkey vulture would love them.

There was a lot of intoxication out and about. All the C'town drinking holes were filled with white people sucking up the exotic atmosphere very loudly, the only Chinese people there being staff. So we gave the karaoke joint a miss. Life is far too short to spend it in the company of Marketing Department wallahs and herds of out-of-towners.

This is NOT Chinatown. Not even close. Alas.

The beer place was surprisingly uncrowded. We did not discuss cheese. Remarkable. What was discussed was the harassment and discrimination seminar video which my friend has to watch and learn from every year. Sexual preferences, gender, race, and, presumably, political-religious beliefs, turkey vulture companions, and delicious fatty thighs.
Do NOT compliment people on how appetizingly they jiggle!


Because I've mixed some of the C&D Folklore into my regular tobacco, the pipe smoked while waiting for the bookseller to get off work was zesty and delicious. It had a savoury note. It was, in a word, lip-smackingly good. There were no rats in Spofford Alley, nor evident elsewhere on my path.


One of the things we discussed, possibly instead of cheese, was a dingo we both knew from the days when we were still at the same bookstore many years ago. He died back during the Orange Bottom's occupation of the White House. We are serene about that. Casually apathetic and untouched. Positively indifferent, unmoved, even stoicly blasé.

He was, in so many ways, nasty, brutish, and short.

And surpassingly dull.



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