Abused, Thank God!
The trick is not say enough and saying too much all at the same time.
Talking to a guy at Dravus Street Bar (where the Milk Maid is continuing despite her threat to quit). He asked if I knew Father Ryan. Priest at St. Annes, now at St. James -- maybe the same guy, I dunno. Five minutes into the conversation he said I was conflated with cattle excrement, right out of the blue. I was surprised, since I had been fairly innocuous; protesting too much is a way for me to think something else is going on inside.
At MFQAT with the Erudite One in the bar -- quiet night, speaking of the passing of Hjellmer. How the Hjell do you spell it? Anyway the aftermath -- no one is particularly sad, only trying to understand how someone gets to such grumpiness in life. Sister convinced ex-girlfriend to clean the apartment out, and on downstream so that we all feel a little bad at doing nothing. But why should not the landlord do the work of getting the place ready to rent? S/he would seem the likely beneficiary, and has the most at stake. Anyway, nice talking about these things and minimum wage machinations too.
Third & Bell -- Fr. Kim and I walked in stating we would cut and run early if it wasn't fascinating. I was groped in the first minute by an unfair-maiden. The MWNI was happy. I met "North Carolina" daughter of a former bartender Bonnie who now requires help at home -- health problems don't you know.
I made my getaway, but Fr. Kim was being strong-armed at the bar by a drunk preaching the true gospel at him. Fr. Kim is a tough sell. Maybe it would make more sense if we knocked back a few with the patrons, but I couldn't stomach it.
Does This Make Sense Dept. The only guy in the bar with a cute girlfriend was plunking quarters in the machine playing some inane game where you get to look at some naked woman if you win. Meanwhile she's standing at the door tapping her toe. "Those with ears, let them hear."
We deposited R#3 at home, wheelchair and all.