Well I think last night’s entry was one of my best. It came quite easily too. I enjoyed it so much that I was the first to comment on it. I wrote it before I went to McSwells where I met Lois and her betrothed, Fred.

I walked up Washington Street distressed by the stroller set. Honestly these people with their strollers. A man and woman with a stroller and their toddler letting the kid look at and touch whatever he wanted until the kid just sat down in the middle of the sidewalk, mom with the stroller not moving and she and the dad were trying to reason with the kid to get up off the sidewalk.

Forget about making room for pedestrians like me, let junior sit where dogs shit. After I maneuvered around those three I was met head on with three young moms and their strollers, all walking side by side, stroller to stroller as if they owned the friggin’ sidewalk.

Julio and Stine are of course excused from this behavior simply because they don’t behave like that with Alexander.

I got up to McSwells where Lois and Fred were waiting. Lois offered to buy dinner but I had eaten already since when I got home I was famished. I did order some curly fries and shared them with Lois and Fred. Also had mayonnaise with the fries for that European feel. To further the Euro mindset I drank Stella Artois. Nice for a hot summer evening.

As I sat at the table with Lois and Fred I had one eye on the door looking out for my brother Frank. Once again it was old home week. Alice Genese, a few Bongos including super nice guy Jim Mastro and his wife Meghan the funniest girl alive. She brightens up my world when she’s around.

My brother eventually showed up and I think Meghan gave him a great big hug, thinking it was me. That’s what Frank thought. We do look alike. In fact a friend of his gave me a big hello when he saw me, not realizing that it wasn’t Frank until I said Hello back. It’s unnerving. I sometimes make a conscious decision not to walk around with a puss on since I’ve seen what Frank looks like with a puss on.

On a smoke break I wound up talking to two former denizens of the Beat N’ Path. We chatted about some people we had in common. I confessed a certain snobbery that McSwells people had towards the Beat N’ Pathers. One guy who used to run the Kitchen Table Music shows there told me of his first time at McSwells when gay people sat at one part of the bar and straight people sat at another. It sounded like bullshit to me since I had never seen such a thing and I sat wherever I damned well pleased.

The Individuals were good, but sorry to say, out of tune and dull. They had a nice crowd though. I hadn’t heard those songs in about 20 years and to tell you the truth, even though I liked them then, I could have gone another 20 years without hearing them again.

I’m sure they’re all nice people though I only know Glenn. Let me rephrase that, I don’t know if they’re all nice people. I’ve seen Janet through the years and she’s never said a word to me though we both know similar people. One time while in my suit and tie she sat opposite me on the bus and kept giving me the look that I know so well. The look that is, ‘He looks just like Frank…’

I just wanted to go home. The show ended, but Frank was in his element. Saying good night to his various friends. Funny- he used to have some comments about my friends, though I can’t remember ever commenting on his.

I was home a little before 12:30, past my bedtime. I have a real job now, a good job and needed to function on what was going to be 5.5 hours of sleep, and with the Stella Artois, it wasn’t a restful sleep.

Oh, how last night followed me throughout the day. I persevered and got through the day, even eating my usual healthy salad when my body wanted something more substantial. Still, I was able to get through the day and left at 4:00 instead of leaving a half hour later.

I was supposed to have dinner with two friends from my Wanker Banker days, but I had to help Bill out and his mom. Now I’m home again and I know I won’t have any trouble sleeping tonight.

Lois and Fred

The Individuals blurred

The Wrist

Open Late

A milestone approaches and I am inching towards it. I’m excited. No, really.