Altogether, over a dozen rats. The little furry anarchists were happily exploring the garbage heaps both in Spofford Alley and later at the bus stop on the way home. And, as you must know, I like the creatures. There's an intelligence there, plus inquisitiveness and social hierarchy. They are more loveable than frat boys because of that.
The bookseller and I avoided the place where we usually have beer because there were too many people there. The karaoke place was crowded too -- white people singing along to Neil Diamond, a shitty artist -- but we bellied up to the bar next to three Chinese dudes and had a drinkie.
Maybe I should have told the rats it wasn't their year?
They seemed so perky and optimistic!
Shame to ruin that.
I am not the kind of man that rains on rodents' parades.
And it would have been quite heartless to do so.
After he got off the bus a fellow passenger asked me if I had ever been married. "Yes, once, a long time ago. I was in my twenties. Why did you ask?" "Oh, nothing."
The marriage was a few years after a relationship with a gun collector in Berkeley. Several years before the long happy situation with Savage Kitten which ended over a decade ago. Since which there has been nothing. My life is a frikkin' desert. But I did not mention that.
I can imagine what might have been. If I had gotten married, my kids might have graduated from college by now, and be possibly planning a crop of little sambal eaters of their own.
There would be books to buy on birthdays, and things to worry about.
And teeth, of course. Braces!
But I have no regrets.
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