2001-11-06 - 10:04 a.m.
Election day today. This has been such a horrible, awful campaign that it makes me feel physically ill. I loathe smear campaigns in the best of times, but in light of all that's happened in this city, you'd think that the candidates could take the high road for once. Quite the opposite. I am a registered Democrat, but after that horrifying "kill it" commercial that Green aired about Bloomberg, I don't know if I can vote for him. Really. I try hard to not let the political bullshit affect my decisions (let's face it, they're politicians, after all) but that was extreme. They're like two teenagers having a pissing contest, which makes me want to slap them both silly, not vote for them. But I'll be debating this internally right up until the time I join the chaos at P.S 41, home of the most antiquated voting machines on the planet.Last night we stayed in and I actually cooked dinner. As you may know, I love to cook, but in this new life of mine, I very rarely do it. This is partly due to the lack of appreciation I got from the X, which resulted in an overblown case of "I'm not doing anything for you..", which I'm slowly working through. Anyway, you would think I'd given the boyfriend a million dollars. He was positively giddy about it, and spent the entire dinner shamelessly flattering my chicken in mustard sauce, till I called him on it and told him I'm wise to the positive reinforcement angle. I really like the whole process of cooking dinner, although I don't want to spoil him. We also rented a movie, Almost Famous, which SUCKED. I'll have to have a word with the people who recommended that drivel to me.
Anyway, before the boyfriend got to my place, I ran out to the video store, where, as usual, I observed some strange interactions. (An aside - when I moved to the Village, I joined the closest independent video store, which I'm very happy with, although their late fees are ridiculous. One night, walking down Greenwich Avenue with P and Brad, I pointed it out. Brad looked at me, horrified: "Trouble, that is the DIRTIEST video store in the Village!" Heh. Who knew? I get my porn on cable.) Anyway, there are two suspicious characters at the counter there - one has long long black hair, gold tooth jackets, and is wearing knee-high mocassin boots, you know, the kind I used to have in high school. With the fringe at the top.(Eloi, I know you had those.) And the other guy looks, well, dirty. Unshaven, red-eyed, wearing layers of flannel and a knit cap. Also wearing those mocassins, but the ankle length ones, blue. The following conversation ensues:
Dirty Guy: Hey, where'd you get those mocs?
Gold Tooth: Same place you got yours.
Dirty Guy: Where?
Gold Tooth: (smiling mysteriously) I KNOW where you got yours, you know.
Dirty Guy: tell me then
Gold Tooth: I KNOW, my brother.
Dirty Guy: At so and so? (obviously some store for misfit, outdated footwear)
Gold Tooth: (bellowing now) I SAID I KNOW where you got yours. I KNOW these things. I already KNOW....
All the employees of the video store stood around waiting for something to happen. I just took my crappy movie and hightailed it out of there, before I had to see something awful happen. Although I was kind of hoping he'd bust out the whole "I am a mystic.." line, so I could ask him to tell me my future.
And then I went home to throw my chicken in the oven, earning me status of "best girlfriend EVER. " I should have held off on the cooking while I was married, too.
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last five entries:
done - 2005-09-16
playgroup, my ass - 2005-09-15
late, but heartfelt - 2005-09-13
she lives - 2005-08-18
cheese me - 2005-05-20