Amit says: “I’m self conscious every time I use an exclamation mark. “
The guy who has temporarily taken over the office behind me is fantastic. He’s like a caricature of a salesman. I know this should annoy me, but his enthusiasm is so entertaining that it’s become endearing. Overhearing half of his phone conversations is almost like watching a Kids In the Hall routine. He doesn’t talk, he yells. Better yet, he yells even when he’s talking to himself. Evidence a recent conversation with his grandfather:
I’ll tell you what! Here’s what we’re gonna do. You ready?
I’m gonna get myself over there, and we’re gonna watch ourselves a BASEBALL GAME!
We’re gonna watch the Giants PUMMEL those guys, right Grampy?…
Heh heh. I am an optimist. That’s right!..
Glass half FULL, right?
You taught me that, eh?
Ha!HA! That’s right!
So I’ll see you tonight there, old man
Yep. Sure will!
See you then.
ALL RIGHT, GRAMPY!
This man in a well-tailored European suit has left his suitcase on the curb while he retrieves something from the intersection. A blue work shirt on a wire hanger dangles from the suitcase handle. As I pass, I want to take this hanger between my thumb and forefinger, lift it, and carry it with me. I’d like to see what the man will do when a well-dressed woman who has obviously showered recently steals his interview shirt. But I keep walking instead, no more interesting than I was to begin with.
Two evangelical missionaries are standing on the corner. The big letters on their chest placards read “FALLEN! FALLEN IS THE GREAT” and “BURNING IN HELL” with little hand-painted flames licking at the letters. It’s a sunny day, and they’re smiling, sipping cups of coffee, laughing at each other’s jokes, and ignoring the commute crowd. Gentlemen, God is watching.
Driving in silence.
B: What are you thinking about, my darling?
Me: What are you thinking about?
Me: I’m smarter than you.
The next morning.
B: Ow. Be careful.
B: I have bruise right there from giving platelets.
Me: Uck! Uck!
B: It’s not a big deal.
Me: Blehhhh. That’s a yucky, sensitive place to have a bruise.
B: You’d put up with a bruise there if you could help, like, four people by just giving blood.
Me: Uck! Uck! I have to think about puppy dogs and rainbows now.
B: Why don’t you think about art?
Me: Ha! Punk.
Going for coffee, I hear a woman crying above me. On the sidewalk below her apartment, someone has spray-painted:
Didn’t you send me email yesterday? I thought so. Be a love, and resend? Thanks.