Tuesday, August 14, 2018

QUESADILLA, SALSA, SRI RACHHA

The bar was nearly empty when I arrived, most people had already seen the baseball games (no, I do not know the teams or how they scored), and Eric was subbing for Chels who was in Reno with the other girls celebrating a bachelorette party. I can only imagine their drunkenness, though when "Jolene" arrived, she was clearly very koosh, despite having been left behind, and Eric was only drinking non-alcohol beer.

Whisky and water, and a quesadilla. I explained to a visiting Australian that 'quesadilla' was Meskin for "not a real pickle": quasi-dill. He believed me.
Very trusting people, those Aussies.

Because Jolene was so "happy", and heading to Nawlins tomorrow, we all got to hear about her new bra which she had just bought. Sorry, I cannot remember the details. After my dinner I smoked a full bowl of my three percent Perique red Virginia mixture outside.
I am not unfamiliar with bras.
Most men aren't.



Briefly came back in when the sound of retching close by became to much. Yes, I smelled the marijuana, but it sure sounded like the dude was coughing up a lung. Well, also, it was cold. Bitterly cold. Not yet foggy, but moist and windy. And sometimes I can be quite the old man.
When I was out there two people asked me for a cigarette.
While puffing on my pipe I explained to one of them that I did not smoke, it was a nasty filthy habit and would kill you, and to the second, who was flapping his oversize empty shopping bags, I responded in German.


"Es tut mir sehr leid, aber ich habe keine zigaretten; das huhn ist ein schmutziges und bedrückendes tier, und wenn du tief in seine augen gukt, wirst du voller depressie und existentiëller traurigkeit sein."


It's a very useful language. Learn it, and you will sound thoughtful and intelligent. And there were no cigarettes. He understood that.
It may have been my regretful air.

After a second whisky, I filled a Peterson, and went out into the night. It had become foggy. Street people and random drunks were far fewer on the way home than before I arrived. I felt queasy, but that was because I had seen Jolene devour two plates of bacon and honey, not the quesadilla.



Tomorrow I shall have a haircut and buy some more 丹參片。
Low dosages of the latter work wonders.
An excellent medicine.






==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================

No comments:

Search This Blog

A DUMPSTER FIRE OF TWITTERY

Often while at work I get to hear the sour old dingbats in the backroom spouting Republican drivel and venom. Which does not leave me positi...