Total radio silence on the c-d front lately, largely due to the move, but also partly owing to the fact that I have a real, live job again. At least for the next eight weeks or so, I’ll be trucking my ass out to United every morning prior to 9:00. Unthinkable, you say? I might have said the same, but here I sit, surrounded by concrete oceans of parking lots and low-rise warrens of corporate greige. The good news is that the project promises to be fairly challenging, which will keep me awake and hopefully not bored. Hell, I might even wind up posting more, just in a desperate effort to momentarily forget that I am basking in fluorescent light and wearing actual fit-for-public clothing instead of loafing about my flat in my underwear, reading the drudge report and catching up on my blogs. But I digress.
The most eventful tale from the first weekend at the new casa happened on the street about a block away. Phineas, Brenda and I were wandering from one locale to the next during our impromptu Saturday night bar crawl when we came upon the biggest bar brawl I’ve ever seen this side of a Sam Peckinpah film. Out on the broad sidewalk in front of Phyllis’ Musical Inn, somewhere between ten and fifteen men were beating the everliving shit out of one another. Alerted by the sounds of breaking glass and the meaty thumps of fists on faces, we stopped about a block down the street and gawped for a few minutes before ducking through the alleys to avoid the fray. The cause of the fight is still unknown (to me at least), but I will say that all the players looked eerily alike (at least from a distance), what with their jeans and white wifebeaters and short sleeved (bowling?) shirts and indie-rock black hair. It was like a big bunch of Brian Setzer impersonators suddenly declared war on, say, the Strokes. Anybody know what was going on there? Do fill me in.
In other news, speaking of the new place, I feel a need to express my love for it again here. Unpacking is 90% finished, painting’s about halfway there, and it’s starting to look like the rockstar pad I’ve always dreamt of. You should come to the housewarming, really. It’ll be fun.