Hello lads and lasses. What is up with thee?
I’m in the ITC, as usual. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I sat in the one corner closest to the window where the sun is beating down on me and burning my retinas with a ruthless force. Not to mention I’m starting to get a little sweaty. I could move, but that would be hassle. At least it’s quiet this time.
I’ve been doing a bit more pillaging than usual lately. The other day in the mall, Marcus, Nick, Kehly and I were on our way out when we noticed a security officer’s hat sitting unattended on a kiosk. Marcus wisely suggested I nab it, and that I did. Pretty simple: just walked up, grabbed it, and strolled out of the mall past the 4 or 5 Mexican-speaking janitors who, even if they had seen me and wanted me to stop, couldn’t have because I wouldn’t have understood what they were saying, so it wouldn’t be my fault. It’s a pretty sweet prize; I’ll post some pictures.
Then today I decided that the little wicker baskets on the tables at Burge that are used to hold napkins could possibly be useful for one thing or another in my own room, so I took that, too.
Maybe people shouldn’t make it so easy.
The sun is officially blinding and baking me now. I smell burning flesh. It’s mine. It is my burning flesh that I smell.
I was drying my hands in a public bathroom the other day when a thought occurred to me after reading the directions on the hand dryer. It says, “Push button. Rub hands under dryer. Dryer will stop automatically.” This is when I thought to myself that it should actually read, “Dryer will stop automatically ‘before hands are dry.'” I’ll bring a Sharpie next time.
“Well Steve…you know the way out. Door’s that way.”