Tuesday, August 28, 2012
It's occurred to me that, since moving here, I haven't thought about wanting to be dead, marking the first time in well over a year that's happened. I think this is right for me right now. It's not Seattle, but it's not bad. I like that people don't look at you at all. They don't say "hi" or "man, what's up with your arm?" I like that job interviews are plentiful, so that I might soon actually get a real job that I've interviewed for as opposed to only getting a job because they're desperate for people.
I don't like that I don't know where to go to watch a football game or where the really good pizza is. There's a place a few blocks away that supposedly makes the best thin crust, but thin crust isn't my thing. I'm thinking the dive bar down the street might be the place for football games as well the the preseason has been going.
I've done weird shit at the public house, like the poetry jam where I felt really uncomfortable because everyone was there to read something and I came for a beer and the seven foot tall black guy who read the really great poem talked to me about something I couldn't understand. Walking the three miles to the Summerfest grounds last Friday was a learning experience, but I wanted to see Pulp Fiction on the outdoor screen on the lake and seeing Darkside of Oz this week will be neat, not something you can see back home, even though the back home brewery sponsors it. My walk down there made me realize I hate Brady street and why I hate it.
Reasons for hating that street: Everywhere I walk here, I don't feel safe, except on Brady Street. The worst thing that'll happen on that street will be some dude bro calling me a fag for not wearing tight jeans. Drunk white dude bros aren't intimidating like crazed homeless people are. While enjoying a cheesesteak at near bar time after witnessing a treadmill attempt to fly, I was privy to a conversation between some dude bros about football and volleyball. The dude bro's girl says something and he says "Shut up, men are talking." In a sane world, that d bro wouldn't have walked out of that restaurant with a woman in his arm and without chili cheese fries on hid lap. We do not live in a sane world. They can have their shitty safe street, I'll take my street with dive bars, cheap beers and real people.
said Tommy T. at 11:29 PM - #
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said Tommy T. at 11:29 PM - #
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