09.27.01 a chaque son gout

two dollars for each of the washing machines. a dollar in my pocket, a quarter i flushed from hiding at the bottom of my bag. one more quarter purge: wotapalava! $1.25. the lion sleeps tonight.

joe and i pick three states apiece before we use the change machine. the more successful quarter design predictor gets to order the loser about. this game fails because 1) we always forget what we've chosen and 2) i'm bossy either way. georgia had the strong showing this time. i'm alone, though. into the dryer, everybody.

monday: dinner with pop in laguna beach, every store window a busby berkeley production of american flag bikinis. oh you beach people! we used to frequent a coffeehouse along the same block - fahrenheit 451. it burned down and was rebuilt years ago, then it closed the boring way. one bathing suit place nearby had a chain mail theme going on a few years back. "that's the one i've got," says dad as he gestures toward some aluminum cones. shocking, as dad usually addresses things scatologically. you can't polish a turd. if you wrestle with a turd, you're gonna get dirty. true. and true.

the tragedy of this dinner was that joe and i had eaten dinner at sango sushi not two hours ago. i hadn't had lunch, and i did not have the strength of character to ignore tempura or an avocado roll or miso soup or well fuck. i thought about purging - forget body image, we're talking about room - but no character there either. dad and i went to javier's, which geez, and i was in acute physical pain by the time i got home again. trips to the OC ghetto: not time constraints, food constraints.

bacchus (wine bar) lives next door to the missing sock (laundromat). wine bar people steal plastic lawn furniture from the laundromat so they can smoke outside, the dirty looters.

No comments: