5.10.2007

hobophobia

I saw the homeless lumberjack again, this time from across the street. OK, to be honest, I saw him coming, and I jaywalked so we wouldn't cross paths. I swear, it wasn't that I am anti-change. It was because the guy was holding an axe. Not a make-believe cardboard-covered-in-tin-foil LARP-style "battle" axe either -- we are talking about the tool of woodsmen.

Last time I saw him, I thought his checkered flannel shirt and Fargo hat were all he had to wear. Now I have to consider the possibility of a lumberbum. I'm not sure which is scarier -- a bum with an axe and some thoughts on sodomy that he'd like to share, or a lumberjack who is lost in a concrete city with no trees.

Either way, you don't ever want to show fear to any living thing with sharp edges (lions, tigers, bears, oh my!), so I had to pretend that I just really needed to cross the street for the, um, hemorrhoids clinic. A little known fact: nobody sits in a hemorrhoid clinic waiting room. I had to stand too, lest I blow my cover with sitting that was too comfortable.

dls

1 Comments:

At 6:51 PM, Blogger Lydia said...

I have a sneaking suspicion that I shouldn't giggle at your blog posts, but that guilt soon recedes in a fountain of jollyness. Yes. Yes sir.

 

Post a Comment

<< Home