08.02.2004 || 23h14

CoffeeHellCo weirdos, bikes and cars

...but in the meantime, I've dealt with some weird shite, both at work and in the world. First off, a few nights ago this weirdo came into CoffeeHellCo and wandered about using perfectly goo French words that made no sense when strung together. He cam to the end of the counter, so Stéphanie and I went over to make sure he didn't come behind the bar. We asked him if we could help him, he spoke a buncha jibberish at us, we asked again, he grabbed Stéphanie's hand and kissed it.

At which point I basically stated that that was enough, and respectfully invited him to leave. Five minutes of this later, he finally walked out the door, so I turned and went to fill the dishwasher, only to turn back and see another barista trying to get him out the door again.

Anyway, we finally sent him packing.

Later, when I went to clean the men's room I found blood on the floor, the cap from a syringe and two tiny empty packets floating in the bowl, and a blood-encrusted syringe with the needle broken off in the garbage. I accordingly closed the bathroom and disinfected the fark out of it.

I don't get paid enough.

What I don't get is the utter lack of respect that shows. I mean, I have *no* idea what that guy might have running in his blood -- aside from the heroin, I mean. And this is the second time he's done this in my café. I know who it was because I recognised him coming in, but it was only after my bathroom discovery that it clicked: he was the ratfucker I pulled outta the can the last time. He bled all over the place that time too.

Oh, I also knocked someone's rear-view mirror off while they were still in the car, which was fun, lemme tell you. It was also their fault, as they stopped suddenly right in front of me, and I had no time to stop. Oh, and no room between them and the parked cars at the side of the street.

I looked at the tiny space between two rear-view mirrors, glanced at the handlebars and shot my hands in towards the stem to keep them from getting crushed. Pop went the leftmost mirror, zoom went cf through traffic to get the hell outta there...

But generally, there's a certain grace to biking that's completely absent in cars: kind of the same way sailboats are graceful and speedboats just ain't. I mean, when you're under sail, there's a poetry to the wind and the motion that's completely different from the brute force of a motorboat. I see biking in kind of the same way, I guess, only it's the natural motion of legs and feet, and the steadying support of hands moving you almost silently through space, as opposed to the poisonous and ugly rumble and cough of even the sexiest car.

And the fact that I can zip through a snarl of those sexy cars is just poetic justice.

Okay, I've wasted enough time: I'm supposed to be designing logos for the theatre troupe *and* a website for the band...

Oh, and there's always bedtime, too.



||Gods save the Queen,
||cf

back || forth

older shite

One last little note... - 09.21.2006

de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006

Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006

More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006

Scary stuff - 05.25.2006



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