April 26th, 2004


(no subject)

He was standing in my kitchen, trying to chop up a huge hunk of stale cheese with a ridiculously large knife. I shook my head watching him, cringing a little each time the knife approached his fingers.

Then I asked, "Could you move your car out of the driveway?"

"What, right now?" he asked puzzled.

"Yes right now, could you move your car please?"

"Why now, I'm kind of in the middle of something here."

"But your car is blocking mine, and when I drive you to the hospital I'd rather take my own car not yours."

(As it turned out nothing got chopped off but cheese, it wasn't as stale and nasty-looking on the inside, and it was tasty on a toasted garlic bagel.)