11:43 AM
Just pissing the morning away here at work. I'm looking forward to hearing "Free as a Bird" several hundred times today on the radio. I kind of liked the song, and the video that went with it was superb. I don't have much trust in a song, though, that seems to have been created concurrantly with its video. I think that one element or the other loses its integrity and even its value when it depends on something other than itself to create its effect.
11:58 PM
god, there's just never enough time in the day sometimes. It's midnight and I just got home, it's been one of those days when i forget to eat, forget to shit, forget to go home, forget to remember what i promised myself i'd remember. none of my promises to myself have ever followed through. then again, i don't make bold predictions about my life with any conviction.
was just at the diner, where all the waiters and waitresses know what i'll order
without even having to ask. i think that this kind of thing is nice, but more
importantly i think that it's important to maintain a camaradarie with local
businesses and restauratns in case i ever find myself without any money. i mean
i think they'd be muchg more likely to extend me credit or whatever if they knew
me somewhat.
although, now that i think of it, i cultivated this precise kind of relationship with the cashier at the cafeteria of the office building where i used to work. i worked there for 3 years, and during that time i discovered that Toni, the cashier, would forgive you small change if you said you'd left your wallet upstairs or just didn't have the cash on hand. she'd always say "you owe me 12�," or whatever. but i'd always planned to do what i did on mylast day working there. i told her i was $3 short, and that i'd pay her back on monday for that friday's lunch. and then i went tra-la-la-la-laing into the merry avenues, and never paid her the stinkin' three bucks.
certainly, such tiny covenatns are not a shocking cultural revelation to most people. although i always held it as beyond reasonable expectation that any storeowner would even consider doing this. i think this is a by-product of my years in the suburbs, where there were virtually no mom and pop retail establishments, but a lot of chain-owned superstores and the like which had very fixed and rigid pricing systems. going into The Gap and trying to bargain with the cashier was and still is a silly idea.
the waitress and i tonight had few words beyon the formalities. when i was through eating (there was probably slaw somewhere in my experience there tonight, but it's such an easy thing to overlook) i studiously read through my copy of People magazine, trying to decide if i should take my copy of The Origins of Satan out of my coat and read it instead.
I didn't do that. I was really just killing time waiting for the waitress to act real casual-like and write me a receipt for my evening slaw. she came past my table and both of us grunted and whispered our way through the needless conversation. she would have asled "can i get you anything else?" and i would have said "nah, just the check, please." but no intelligible words were actually articulated. both of us just whispered and came close to saying those things, but instead of any words being made clear our mutterings mixed together into the breathy sauce of a purely ceremonious exchange. she commenced with the other element of this infinitely repeated routine, which was to clear the plate off my table, and wipe the table, and leave the napkins and the water, and check to see if the ice tea was all gone or partly filled. if it's filled even slightly, she leaves the glass. if it's empty she asks if iwant another. it was empty tonight, except for the ice cubes, but she didn't ask if I wanted a refill, she only took the glass and everything else. the plate made noises, and she let it fall a very small distance and back onto the table. i know that it was a very slight sound, even with the added clatter of the silverware, but it made me wince, and i jerked my shoulders together and tightened my back into a bitter little nub of anxiety. i don't know if she noticed ro not, or if she too felt that this was all a possible part of the possible routines she entertains with all her customers, and that all customers in diners everywhere have bought in to the myth that slaw is healthy and good for you, that fish and chips and cheeseburger deluxes and pickle spears and grilled cheese are all you need to make a healthy hand and a healthy mind and to make yourself a miracle of human life, proudly posing naked before the gasping, heaven-struck sculptors across the ages.
