Misanthrope

Rocket Cat brings out the worst in me as a human being. It is not necessarily the fault of the coffee shop; it's the humanity that I encounter here. Last time, it was the people talking loudly about their very personal problems. Before that, the irritating baby that we were all supposed to find precious. Today, it is this guy sitting beside me who should most likely be laid up in bed with Vicks Vapor Rub on his chest, a large box of Kleenex, orange juice, bed pan, and enough cold medicine to knock out a yak. He keeps sniffing and not like a little sniff but one of those snotty sniffs that you know is just barely keeping his running nose from dripping on to his computer. Like, would it be too much to ask for him to blow his nose or to take a cold tablet or to fucking stay home if he's that sick? I think I'm also irritated because he has one of those tiny, puffy soul patches of hair on his chin, as if he has had a run in with a tuft of cat hair. Now he's singing along to Bjork. I keep glancing over at him, but he doesn't seem to notice. I'm not saying that he shouldn't be out--maybe he doesn't have Internet at his house---maybe he lives with twelve other guys who are currently having band practice--it's obviously his right to be in public, but blow your nose occassionally, please. Please, please, please, please. Oh, some girl just came in who knows him. She said, Hey, Joey. He said, Hey, Sarah and then put his Walkman on (maybe so he won't have to hear himself sniffle). Also in here: Bryan What's His Face from the Stray Cats--the blond lead singer. This guy has the same hair, the same rolled up jeans, the same suspenders from Stray Cat Strut. That same Philly type guy I see everywhere--the one with the square tortoiseshell glasses, closely cropped beard and moustache, spiky hair, and expensive sneakers.

It's been too crazy at work to write but it makes me feel lazy if I don't get something written. Remember that undergrad class I was bragging about taking? The teacher wrote me to tell me that there wasn't room b/c a real life undergrad wanted to register. Sorry! I would've been able to formally register too except for the teacher was out of the country and couldn't sign the form. The same thing happened last semester with her. It's too bad because I think it's going to be a fun class and she's extremely interesting. And now I have to rely on myself again to do that writing on my own, which as has been proved over and over again that it's not something I'm very good at. Need to finish revising the book of short stories and need to find a cover and need to come up with ten interview questions and answers to submit and other marketing ideas. Would rather do the Sunday crossword puzzle.

Comments

Liz said…
I'll help with the 10 interview questions. Let's have a drink this week...
Aimee said…
Yes, when?
jodie said…
I think you should forget about all those dirty little Philly hipsters and move to Idaho. You need to find you a nice cowboy. Plus, Moscow just opened another coffee shop (though instead of irritating sniffly people, there are irritating old hippie men with long, thinning hair and big wool sweaters).
jodie said…
I think you should forget about all those dirty little Philly hipsters and move to Idaho. You need to find you a nice cowboy. Plus, Moscow just opened another coffee shop (though instead of irritating sniffly people, there are irritating old hippie men with long, thinning hair and big wool sweaters).

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