Sunday After Dark

I just came back from the mall. I had a burger and a couple pints of Guinness at Red Robin, which by the way caught on fire and filled with smoke while I sat undeterred at the bartop, and then made my way to Barnes and Noble. I had a gingerbread latte, bought a replacement for my lost/stolen Ella Fitzgerald Christmas CD and the new Amy Sedaris book for Tricia. It would have been a relaxing piece of “me” time, despite the fire, if not for the pounding headache I’ve been nursing all day.

And then there were the teenagers. They were underfoot everywhere, unsupervised and unruly. I found myself stepping around their stupidity with one constant thought, I hope my kids don’t turn into fucking idiots.

Perhaps I’m getting old, but I seem to recall Sunday being a school night, and as such I was never allowed to roam with my fellow hooligans through the city streets after dark. Have times changed that much, or was I just sheltered?

I suppose I was let out on occasion, but I must have had a purpose. I can’t imagine that I once slithered aimlessly with the masses, blending nonchalantly into a proverbial rat king. Did I? Well, maybe on Saturdays.

Now I don’t know what hurts worse, the headache I have or the one that is waiting for me. Anyone have an aspirin?

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