Something I left out of my Friday entry, but worthy of commentary, was that I slept on Roger’s sofa that night. I awoke around 5am, still drunk and needing to urinate with an urgency I haven’t experienced since I was a 5-year-old bed wetter. Roger’s only bathroom is in his bedroom, and I was terribly concerned that I’d walk in and see him naked or doing something I’d rather not know about, so I started to consider my options: outside the apartment complex, his first-floor balcony, home, or the kitchen sink. Outside and on the balcony was cold and not private enough for my conservative senses, and I was too tired to drive home. I remembered his sink was filled with dirty dishes but had nearly convinced myself that Roger would understand the situation and even appreciate my peeing to the courteous side of them. I didn’t and when I finally woke up, I drove home and went there. Crisis averted.
I picked up my “little brother” on Saturday, and we watched Bolt in 3-D. The movie was a shrug for me and the 3-Dness lost its novelty when I became obsessively aware of the glasses on my face. My eyes were strained, and the pickle my little companion was gnawing on smelled cheap and offensive but made me strangely hungry. When I dropped him off, I stopped and ate at Maudie’s on North Lamar. I like that place, and I go there almost exclusively for the salsa. Unfortunately, the heavy quality of “Josie’s Enchiladas” usually renders me incapacitated, and I have to speed home for an emergency nap. To thwart such slothery, I picked up a six pack of Lone Star (a beer that, to my surprise, I chose over Heineken) and then went home to try my hand at open A tuning. After I popped my G string, I gave up and loaded Sid Meier’s Civilization IV. I listened to the movies Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf and most of Footloose while I played into the night. I highly recommend that game. You build a civilization from hunter gatherers to space-faring people, but that’s not the fun part. What I discovered some time ago is that I can alter the terrain and technology of the game and give myself the best resources, money, and military, so when rival civilizations (whom I’ve made to be aggressive) wages war with bronze spears, I simply roll over their culture with unstoppable tanks, bombers, and nuclear weapons, forcing them to their proverbial knees and enslaving their people. That sounds like cheating, I know, but I fancy myself a jealous and wrathful God in the whole matter. There’s a psychoanalytical study in there somewhere I’m sure.
Sunday was truly a lame experience. I almost wished I was religious, so I could have gone to church and felt social with all the other absurd pagans in ties and Sunday dress. I think a small factor in my embracing atheism was the fact that I used to have to suffer Sunday mass in espanol. Church is shitty enough in English, but Jesus, in the language of the Inquisitors themselves? Christ, that sucks.
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