The other night, Ned and I headed to his house in separate cars. We do that so if one of us dies the entire monarchy won't go to hell. When we get near his house, I always turn on February 1 Street--and yes, there really is a street here called February 1. He likes to go all the way up to the traffic circle where they have a statue of the guy who they named this town after, Nathanael Greene, who I like to call Mr. Greensboro. When we got to his house, Ned was smug. "You definitely took the wrong way." There's a college near him that mostly consists of black students, and apparently their football team was out for an evening run. Shirtless. "I had to wait for 40 athletic black men to run past me in the rain," Ned said.
Son of a bitch.
Also, I just totally invented the number 40. I have no idea how many people are on a football team. Ned probably gave me a number, but I was distracted.
In other news, I had to get dog food after work last night, because I was completely out--you know how I am. If Ida come home last night with no food, the dogs woulda turned on me. I'd be writing you with no skin today. But as soon as I got in my car, I could see huge lightening flashes and not because I was having an aneurysm, which is always my first thought when I think I see lightening, and won't you come to my brain? It is super-relaxing in here.
Then WOOOSH! It went from nothing to one of those downpours where you can see nothing. So I turned in to the nearest drug store, and I don't mean I am now a big drug store with the ability to type. I got out of my car and there was a river in the parking lot. Seriously.
"SERIOUSLY?" this sort of chubby, adorably dressed girl said, from her car. "I absolutely LOVE these shoes." So she took them off and waded through the river. I kept my shoes on and minced, but I was completely soaked when I got in there.
I found some dog food, thank god, and yes, I DID just go to the drug store for cat food the other day and why don't you shut up? I'm a single mom. Tryin' to make a livin' and doin' the best I can. Which involves drug store cat food. Now I've got Rhinestone Cowboy in my head. LIKE SOME DRUG STORE CAT FOOD! TRYIN' TO MAKE A LIVIN' AND DOIN' THE BEST I CAN!
See what I did there? Are you CERTAIN you do not want to be in here in my head?
While I was there, I remembered I needed light bulbs, and also I saw they had Ned's brand of wine on sale, two dollars off! Yes, they sell wine at my drug store. It's a drug store. Alcohol is a drug.
So I got to the counter with light bulbs, dog food and some pinot noir. "This is how I have my own party," I said to the clerk, one of those black women with blonde hair, and I realize I'm one to talk about being natural, but blonde hair on a black person fools no one. Anyway, I like her, and she tolerates me. "Whatever works for you," she said, putting it all in one bag. I hate it when they give you 98 bags for four purchases. Thanks. Let me just get out m'goddess arms so I can carry all these.
Anyway, since I was already in that strip mall, I decided to mosey on over to the Chinese food place, and by mosey I mean walk though a Silkwood-shower monsoon. I tried to stay under the awnings but basically by the time I got there I was a Navy SEAL.
I have no idea why I said that. Do Navy SEALs even get wet?
So finally, I burst into the door at home, dripping wet and carrying light bulbs and huge bags of dog food and pork with broccoli and pinot noir. When Ned and I were in Michigan last month, we went to the wine store because Ned wanted to get a thank-you bottle of wine for his uncle for watching the cat. The three girls who watched MY cat got bupkis. The point is, the clerk was recommending a wine and in her Michigan accent called it "peee no new war." Ned could not look at me, because he knew I was dying to imitate that enunciation.
Peee no new war.
Not that I didn't talk exactly like that for the first 27 years of my life. I still sometimes do. I just got a "You're not from around here" the other day, in fact.
Anyway, I get home, set down my bags, take off my soaked shoes, and
HOW did she get to it? She would have had to grab the metal handle with her teeth, then figure out the flaps, and really nothing gets between Lu and her pork with broccoli. Asshole. Who RAISED this dog?
Okay, I gotta go. Having dinner with the Tall Boy tonight. "Is this kind of his last shot to get you before you move in with someone?" asked Ned. Yes. Because All This is in demand. Alternatively, we'll talk about what's new and I'll rope him into helping us move. So. Further reports as developments warrant.