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 saturday, may 26Princess not so bright "Slip sliding away, slip sliding away You know the nearer your destination The more you slip sliding away" What was my first clue that something horrible was about to, or had happened? Well, it wasn't when the elevator door resentfully slid open to reveal a dim interior and a stench that could peel wallpaper. And it wasn't the hydroplane of my foot across some silky wet sludge smeared across the floor of said elevator. Claire wheeled the stroller towards me, through the mess, in an attempt to make room for the gentlemen who followed us. We all stood there wearing a pinched look of someone who smells something truly awful. You know that look. Your nose recoils in alarm and tries to climb back into your sinuses. The true horror of the event revealed itself when I finally gained the courage to look down. I had slid, Claire had rolled and the gentleman had walked through human biomass. It all wouldn't have been so bad had I not been wearing flip flops. I love flip flops. There is no greater freedom than wearing flip flops all the time. That's what California is all about. The freedom and ability to wear flip flops year round. At least, that's what I want to believe. I'm not sure how to factor human biomass into the equation. Flip flops are loosing their charm. I am princess not so bright. Any other intelligent human being would not have entered that elevator. I could have entitled this "Shit happens III." Further reading: Shit happens I & Shit happens II.
Hippolyte Bayard, Self-Portrait as a Drowned Man, 1840 The day before yesterday? Harvey Keitel explained. |
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