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sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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Will Thin Sublingua Please Stand Up And Be Recognized
Shop It Down So, today? I shopped. I took the car from Max and went thrift store shopping. I spent twenty dollars and netted a book, a pair of Levi 550's that are in perfect condition (that is, slightly worn and faded but sans holes and worn patches), a wool skirt, a J. Jill black velvet slouchy jacket, and two shirts, one of which has a keyhole back that perfectly frames my tattoo. (Man, am I a bargain shopping demon or what?) At one thrift store, I ran into the mother of this woman I used to work with and who I once hated so much (she got drunk one night and threw up on my futon, the bitch) that I used to have scary and strange dreams about physically attacking her. Her mother, however, is the nicest nicest nicest woman on the planet. Though she did not recognize Thin Sublingua, we had a conversation in the Saver's blazers section in which she revealed to an apparently complete stranger that her daughter--the woman I hated--is on a diet. Which is failing. Ha! I also hit CostCo, where I stocked up on your basic veggies (English cucumbers, tomatoes, portobellas, white mushrooms, red peppers, baby carrots, etc.) and other various large quantities of sundry items. Max has also developed an addiction to Dilettante milk chocolate-covered dried bing cherries, so I picked up a couple of bags for him. I also ran into two people at CostCo who did not recognize Thin Sublingua: SophII (the hyper-depressed non-coffee consuming, coffee shop owner whose coffee shop I no longer frequent because she's a whiny bitch) and Bernadette, a woman I knew in high school and who helped me through a rough patch before moving away. After CostCo, I ran over to Wild Oates for some bottled water. In the veggie section, I ran into Mayflower's friend Julie, who did not recognize Thin Sublingua. I also ran into this other guy, this guy who works there in the deli who always looks at me like he might know me. I am usually very stone-faced when it comes to men peering at me, and this seems to deter them. However, this guy always seems to be around and always seems to give me this look. He did piss me off one day by looking at me while I was waiting to pay but was being ignored by the counter help (I was the only customer in line). He made like he was going to call attention to me, but then didn't, and I had to call over to the help myself. (Good help is so hard to find these days, God knows.) Anyway, it pissed me off that he saw me and said nothing to the cashier. And the point of this story is what, Sublingua? Okay, well, today I heard someone talk to this guy and when he responded, I suddenly realized two things: One, I had never heard him speak before. And, two, I used to work for this guy. That's right. This inept fucker (Neil's his name) used to manage a restaurant where I was an assistant manager and he used to do shit like ignore customers all the time. I used to have to field God, that was a blast from the past. But now? The gym.
More lies:
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