As Lauren is out of town already and nobody I know is within a stone’s throw of my house, I’ve taken to wearing pajamas when I’m not at work. Doing so is pretty much surrendering to the fact that i’m not going to do a damn thing that requires me to leave my house.
But then yesterday, late at night, I was hungry. And there was no food in the house.
I decided not to change out of my pj’s, I just put on my shoes, threw on my Cal Poly sweatshirt, and went to Chano’s in my pj bottoms. I looked pretty ridiculous.
While I was waiting for my food, an african american gentleman in an oversized Red Sox jacket, oversized pants, and untied shoes started looking at me with an expression somewhere between benign and homicidal. I like to call this particular grimace, “The South Central Smile.” He’s not really mad at anything, but if he looks mean enough, maybe he won’t get mugged.
So he’s looking at me, real slowly just dragging his eyes across me; Starting at my green sweatshirt, past my checkered blue and black pj’s, all the way down to my chocolate brown adidas superstars. His eyes made their way up to mine, and he addressed me:
Posted by Red Scott @ 1:58 am