My summer clock has kicked in.
I'm wide awake at 6.30, trying to tell myself to sleep in... I was up late re-reading The Road (first read while waiting to go into remission) and even though I know I should get up and time this script, I want to sleep... but, noooooooo, the eyes stay shut, the body is awake.
Make the bed... Sunday is my only day to ignore it....and off to find coffee. I guess I should buy a machine to tote with my suitcases on my monthly moves, until then, it's a morning adventure.
Now, normally, I just get a cup from the pizza guy on the way to the train. He knows already how I like it, we chat, and I balance my $1 cup...a blow against the evil corporate giant... you can't FIND a Starbucks around here... the computer bag and the terrier (how you doin' anon?) I head for the train. With the new wide awake at this hour, I'm searching out coffee at a closer spot, and I found one... the deli on the corner.
The best thing there is the little group that gathers in the doorway. Same group, every morning...three women, and Flava Flav's look-alike cousin, Dinky-Dave. I'm not sure that's his name, but, it works for me. The women seem to have six words in their vocabulary, 'I', 'tolt', muthafucker', 'bitch', 'ah-huh' and one I can't understand. Oh, and girl or sista is thrown in on occasion.
Dinky-Dave has the FF glasses, the clothes, the big ass clock thing on his neck. No, really, he does. And, he has Ft Knox in his mouth. I spend my time trying not to stare at his teeth while he speaks to me.
I fail.
He has a cocker spaniel mix named Bubbles. He called her Bubbles because she farts all the time. He didn't have to tell me about the farts. The air around Bubbles is ripe. Since he stands by the counter, you order your coffee in this manner: standing outside, you take a deep breath, dash past the cursing Fates, and speaking quickly, say, "Onelargecoffeeonesugarcreamthankyouverymuch" give them a dollar and back towards the door.
At this point, DD will move towards the terrier and I to see how we are. "How you doing my fine thing?"
"Oh, just fine, thanks."
The Fates turn, too. "Sista, isn't this a fine day. I tolt that bitch if that muthafucker came to my house, I'd kill his ass... and you know what he did?"
"Umm.. did he come over?"
"NO!! Muthafucka went to that bitch's house instead. I'm tolt him, I'm gonna kill his ass. Bitchass fucka."
DD at this point is standing by me flirting. "So, my fine lady, what are you doin' today?" Bubbles lets go with a particularly Olympic quality fart. DD is impervious to the cloud that rises from her rear end. The terrier backs away.
"What? Oh, yes, work. I'm going to work."
The guy behind the counter finds this vastly amusing, and calls out, "Mamiii, your coffee is here."
I wade though clouds of Bubbles, curse words, cheap aftershave and brush the dangling clock to grab my coffee and retrace my steps.
"Later!"
Exiting, I hear, "I'm going to that mutha's house and if that bitch is there, dey both gonna die."
"Ah-huh, I hear dat, sista."
Sweet Mother of God.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
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2 comments:
A handy dandy tip from your buddy Ha Ha. Buy one of those little 1 cup metal stovetop Italian espresso makers. They're tiny and can fit in small, small bags.
BTW, what's this about remission? Are you OK?
yep, that's why it's called remission.
thanks for the concern, you hot potato you.
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