Middle-aged Harley Davidson biker on cruiser at red light blasting Detroit Rock City by Kiss.
I like when I deliberately make a weird noise, and my cat in turn studies me quizzically.
Before too long she goes back into repose, and then I go and make another strange sound.
By the third or fourth time, my cat’s patience has worn thin, and her curiosity gets the better of her. She decides to leap onto the couch to investigate.
But there is nothing there to discover. In fact, neither of us can glean anything further about these unusual disturbances.
So it just goes to show that I am not the smarter of the two species.
The woman behind the counter said “pork” when citing the “pork,” “chicken” when mentioning the chicken stand-in and shrimp in reference to the shrimp replacement, without flinching.
This was an Asian vegan eatery, and she acted as if she believed herself. O, there was “beef” in the rice dish I ordered, as well. Anyway, the woman reminded me of Mrs. Baylock from the original Omen. I wondered if she delighted in her ruse. She also reminded me of Klimt’s women, or a Picasso sketch — I’m talking about those 1940s lithograph studies.
Overall, she was friendly but had Mrs. Baylock teeth and an omnivorous grin.
Perhaps “client” denotes those for whom services are provided, while “customer” is the lower-rung term reserved for the retail industry. In our either/or culture, would you rather purchase goods or services? Experiences or objects?
Where things stand today with intermission
The planet seems to be away at one right now. Wherever there is noise and empty chairs there is one underway. The world is on recess — smoking, eating, jabbering, visiting the restroom en masse. The attendants are collecting tips in exchange for folded towels and mints. There is smoke everywhere as if in a lobby. Paper and plastic wrappers. People’s voices combine to create a din. Filler scenes as the curtains pull back.
Are you gainfully or painfully employed?
A cow’s moo and the muffled grunt of Frankenstein’s monster (Karloff). Compare & contrast.
I am in my cocoon right now, complete with classical music (Chopin’s Mazurkas) coffee and Wayne Koestenbaum’s Pink Trance Notebooks, dudes. In a bubble I might instead be listening to Bach or Brahms and per chance reading Bukowski?
Thought in the back of my mind is … 2019 is just crazy tawk.
How important packaging has become in the Age of Bottled Water. I am a pink flower-powered Fiji female, hopped up on alkaline & properly ionized. Electro-lit! While munching on plu 8594 cranberry & cashew mix, I sip through a volcanic rock filter in an artesian aquifer.
It is Essentia to stay hydrated in the Mojave, & if you notice, @essentiawater has exquisite product design. Carry a bottle & it’s a fashion statement, as well as a declaration of social status & #hydration awareness.
I was thinking that One Day, a Line would be a very cool alt title for that One Line a Day journal that’s all the rage these days.
The very fact that I am writing about this proves that I am in dire need of the alt version, which would be perfect for those of us who suffer chronic writer’s block. Perhaps it would come with far fewer pages than the more ambitious & optimistic mainstream edition?