Okay, I really, really have to work on this Separate Statement In Support Of Motion To Compel Cranial Infarction In Opposing Counsel, but I’m going to take a quick break to share with you an encounter from my lunch hour. Which is really a lunch ten minutes, but hey.
It is a very windy day here in the City of Angels. I walked to the taco store and back, and was frisked and then molested by the breeze. Fortunately, I was wearing pants rather than a skirt, so no Marilyn Monroe Moment.
As I entered the lobby of my building, I saw an old, fat, balding white guy in a suit and suspenders, standing by the elevator, watching me.
“Boy,” he shook his head, “Your hair is a mess!” He walked over to the door and looked out. “Do you think it’s too windy for me to walk to the store?”
“No, you should try it,” I replied cheerfully. “After all, you don’t have to worry about your hair.”
The elevator came just then, and I got on, so I didn’t see his face. But I like to imagine it was shattered.