Morning Already?

I have to admit to being a little ticked off at the city right now. They've blocked off my street, loaded it with heavy equipment, some fancy new pipes and pieces of crap I can't identify and then went to work at the other end. For a month I've been veering in and around all of this just trying to get home and the work hasn't even come close to my place yet. I leave before they start, get home after they've finished and can't tell if they've done anything. Summer in Ottawa.

You can take the idiot out of the cesspool, but.... I was happily meandering home a couple of nights ago when I saw a girl on the side of the street waving at me. She wanted me to stop and I actually began to slow down. I think I may have forgotten where I was, temporarily, and thought, "She looks like she needs help." It's not that we don't have prostitutes where I grew up, they just owned houses and raised families like the rest of us.

I stood in the middle of the field, a beer in my hand and two in the bag, waiting for the fireworks to start. There was a lot of yelling and laughing that I didn't quite follow. I was busy looking up at the stars. That was when the first one went off. I single shooter volleyed straight up and flashed briefly against the real thing and from all around me, out of the darkness came the disappointed chorus of hisses and booing. I turned around and began to walk back to the party painfully aware that as hard as we try we just can't seem to come close to the real thing.

I floated on a chaise in a pool that was a degree or two cooler than me, just enough to make the heat seem less threatening. I put all of the concerns and worries out of my mind, which for me is something like building a skyscraper out of wet lasagna noodles, and concentrated on the ticklish feeling of the water lapping at the soles of my feet. I cracked one eye open just as two of the girls passed by the pool in their bikinis, towels in hand, and thought that maybe being single wasn't so bad. I decided that chivalry was the best course and rolled off the chaise and into the water. "Hey girls, you can take this." I am so smooth.

The guy at the corner store, across the street from me, wants me dead. I know this because last month when I tried to quit smoking he persisted in trying to sell me cigarettes. He said, "You can't quit. Here, do you want cigarette? No? You will smoke again, my friend and I'll be here." I thought it was pretty creepy and decided it was time to set up surveillance myself. On the other hand, it may be that he's looking square into a trend that will likely end in his having to close up shop. I don't think that anybody buys anything else from him. After watching him for a week I decided that, while he definitely is a weird guy, he isn't trying to hasten my demise. He's just waiting until I do it to myself. Smug bastard.

I can't remember if I like rainy days or not. Meh, maybe it doesn't matter one way or the other.

P.S.
The spell checker doesn't know what lasagna is.