DON'T GO NORTH

It was very quiet at work today. Reason being a stretch of flooded freeway to the north, preventing Marin County's senile delinquents from leaving their kennels or running away from home. Oh the humanity. Tales of epic bravery, water up to the eye-brows, water monsters, and giant anacondas. Trailer parks washed away, oh it was frightful.
There may have been some exaggeration.

Though one elderly fellow did take three hours to get from here to there. Most were only stuck in traffic for only two hours. The boss only took an hour and a half.

Anyway, there were half a dozen old gits yowling in the back room when I left, seeing as the Forty Niner game was on. I was glad to leave. Sports leaves me cold.

One very regular individual, who has all his marbles, and thus is unique for Marin County, admitted in passing that he had retired six years ago.

He comes by every day. Picks up his stuff. Doesn't stay long.
Smiles, utters a snarky comment, and leaves.

"When I was in High School, we didn't have Starbucks. We we're depraved."

Pause for a couple of seconds. Then "deprived, not depraved. Sorry".

The idea of a 'depraved childhood' has a certain charm.

When I was in highschool myself, we too didn't have Starbucks. We headed over to a nearby coffeeshop of café for a cup and a cigar. And sometimes a drinkie. So clearly it was a slightly depraved childhood.


It's decades later, and I'm still enjoying my depraved childhood.



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