Wednesday

Last night the lovely J and I went to Bryant Lake bowl. We ate at the bar because all the tables were full. It's a very popular spot. As we were sitting there it occurred to me that I should have phoned Ron Bumsfeld and Emily to eat with us at Barbette. That place is good, too. On the way out, what appeared to be a gay black guy hollered across lake street to se if I had a quarter. I said NO, and he turned and went west. J said that she had a pocket full, and I thought she said it loudly enough for him to hear, which looking back, she didn't. Anyway, we're sort of arguing about that one (not too much) and getting in the car and this time what was definitely a gay black guy comes running toward us. We jump in the car, she locks the doors, I gun it in reverse, and we were gone in moments. I began thinking that he must have been trying to tell us one of us dropped something once it hit me what a coincidence it is for two flaming black dudes to beg change at the same intersection, but we checked, and hadn't. That must be the corner of gay black guy prostitution, and it looks like the money is so scrace that it hopefully won't continue to be for long so I can go to the restaurant in peace. Lessons: order the burger at BLB well done if you want it medium well, and being accosted by a frantic gay black guy is a good way to make people forget their differences but I would recommend it only as a last resort.

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