So for those who actually bother to look, my occupation (other than aspiring creative type) is a clever (goes well for me thanks) way of saying I deliver chinese food...
So I'm working tonight. It's cold and rainy. I'm goin on 5 or so hours sleep and a long workday. So I'm driving between orders and listening to Tom Waits. Frank's Wild Years to be exact. Act 1, song 7 (Yesterday is Here) to be more precise. At a red light I look over out my window and see, in the middle of the road, a pink fish. Plastic, about the size of a bar of soap. "How... Odd..." I think.
I ponder briefly an proceed to the address of my delivery. As tired and brain-fried as I am, I decide to write down the fish event in my handy-dandy notebook for later feigned clarity of reference for this posting. (It's across the room and unopened at the moment.) I do so while in the driveway of my next customer. I get out of my car, door open (rain is sporadic and light) and Tom playing at volume sufficient to hear a good half block away. (Wear earplugs if you're in a punk/pop/metalish band for any period of time.) The guy who ordered has made his way to the porch of the house (large 2-story affair in a semi-historical part of the Southern City I live in.) and is of indeterminate features and erratic movement. He appears simultaneouslty Asian, middle-eastern, south american, or tanned euro with white hair but youngish looking. Kinda like Dick Clark with Andy Warhol's hair and George Hamilton's complexion. He extends his arms out in extreme motions. He throws his right arm out with a wad of cash while licking his index finger of his other hand. I'm thinking "this guy could be IN a Tom Waits song... Or in a Lynch movie... Or Jarmusch... Or even Waters... And the guy says- "Is that Tom Waits?"
On top of that, the local lottery pick 3 pulled my numbers today. I of course seldom play, but when I do, those are the ones I choose. In that order. Shoulda played. Woulda made 500.
Just an odd, sleep-deprived day.
*shrug*
So I'm working tonight. It's cold and rainy. I'm goin on 5 or so hours sleep and a long workday. So I'm driving between orders and listening to Tom Waits. Frank's Wild Years to be exact. Act 1, song 7 (Yesterday is Here) to be more precise. At a red light I look over out my window and see, in the middle of the road, a pink fish. Plastic, about the size of a bar of soap. "How... Odd..." I think.
I ponder briefly an proceed to the address of my delivery. As tired and brain-fried as I am, I decide to write down the fish event in my handy-dandy notebook for later feigned clarity of reference for this posting. (It's across the room and unopened at the moment.) I do so while in the driveway of my next customer. I get out of my car, door open (rain is sporadic and light) and Tom playing at volume sufficient to hear a good half block away. (Wear earplugs if you're in a punk/pop/metalish band for any period of time.) The guy who ordered has made his way to the porch of the house (large 2-story affair in a semi-historical part of the Southern City I live in.) and is of indeterminate features and erratic movement. He appears simultaneouslty Asian, middle-eastern, south american, or tanned euro with white hair but youngish looking. Kinda like Dick Clark with Andy Warhol's hair and George Hamilton's complexion. He extends his arms out in extreme motions. He throws his right arm out with a wad of cash while licking his index finger of his other hand. I'm thinking "this guy could be IN a Tom Waits song... Or in a Lynch movie... Or Jarmusch... Or even Waters... And the guy says- "Is that Tom Waits?"
On top of that, the local lottery pick 3 pulled my numbers today. I of course seldom play, but when I do, those are the ones I choose. In that order. Shoulda played. Woulda made 500.
Just an odd, sleep-deprived day.
*shrug*