August 27th, 2008
“Son of a bitch, you’re running up the meter!”27 comments
August 20th, 2008
"Hey bro, remember me? You wrote that story about me in the paper."3 comments
August 13th, 2008
“It’s the Californians, man, the Californians are the worst.”15 comments
August 6th, 2008
The middle-aged man I picked up at Vendetta is in a hyperactively verbose lather ...0 comments
July 23rd, 2008
When I step into the obese old woman's apartment5 comments
July 16th, 2008
The obese old woman at Fred Meyer has a bad hip and a wheelchair...8 comments
July 9th, 2008
“...I need to take a shower first and wash all of this blood off.”6 comments
July 2nd, 2008
“So I’ve got these two women in the back of my cab who just refuse to get out...”8 comments
June 25th, 2008
“My friend’s getting divorced, and he’s really drunk,” says the bartender...8 comments
June 18th, 2008
There’s nothing like a good Friday night, and I’m referring to the money.3 comments
[October 5th, 2005] She drank the Kool-Aid. There has been much discussion of Hurricane Katrina lately, but this passenger has a more informed perspective than most. She works for the Department of Fish and Wildlife and is here from D.C. for a conference. I ask her about increased wetlands development; wetlands help protect against storm surge. "Oh, the wetlands were all filled in and developed before you and I were even born." Mentioning Bush's gutting of the Corps of Engineers' and FEMA's budgets is met with a dismissive snort, if such a genteel lady could be said to snort. The spotted owl comes up, and she bemoans the loss of jobs associated with that. "I'll bet you think there's less timber than there used to be, don't you?" she says. I'll bet you think I'm stupid enough to answer a question posed like that in the affirmative, I do not say. Now the atmosphere in the cab is tense, and I feel like it's my fault. It's not like I couldn't have spotted it: her modest flowered dress, her Phyllis Schlafly hairdo, the small neat earrings and small neat purse. And there's nothing wrong with these things. We literally do wear our preferences on our sleeves, with varying degrees of subtlety. If we didn't, there wouldn't be such a clang of cognitive dissonance when we encounter someone who runs contrary to type-the tattooed and pierced Republican, the prim and proper libertarian librarian. I had ignored her signifiers and now I must pay for it. With my blood pressure.
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