ahhhhhhhh a wonderful rainy morn with just enough chill in the air. Woke this morning with a hankering for a raisin bran muffin. Slipped on pants -- commando -- and slipped on my slip-on shoes, sockless and Labowskied my way across the street to the lame-ass bakery with emo-girl who asked the same lame-ass question she always asks in her sullen voice: "Do you want anything?" Yep, I'd like a half-dozen Camus and a couple of those Paul Sartres. She looked at me confused and then as though I had expectorated over my Irv the Workingman's Friend t-shirt (Irv's south side shop filled with work clothes and guy sundries, all at reasonable prices, has long closed). I pointed to the one, lone brown muffin among the happy lemon puffs and blueberry explosions and said I'd take it before it's shellacked and becomes someone's paperweight. Another confused look from miss pierced face. Oh, that's right... there are no things as paperweights in her Facebook-text-messaging world. She drops the brown muffin into the brown bag and charges me $1.89. I shuffle back home to hot coffee and open the window enough to hear the comforting sound of traffic through rain-puddled water.
