Padhraig and I were at Java Company the other day and this girl came in wearing bright red tight hot pants. She also had dreadlocks and a jewel glued or stapled to her forehead. She sat down next to us and began writing in her journal, a small book with a fairy on the cover. A few moments later, her friend joined her--a man wearing what can only be described as a smock with roomy pants. He also had a jewel Scotch taped to his head. They sat there together, talking about...I don't know what, but halfway through, she started doing yoga exhalations or speaking in tongues. It reminded me of being back in college with a bevy of theatre majors and how I just couldn't fit in with some of them--the more hippy-ish ones, those who could contort themselves into pretzels while talking about the Dali Lama and ingesting LSD. I was always intimidated by them. I am strange, but I could never be that strange or that certain degree of strange or maybe it's that brand of showoffishness. I am ...
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