Downtown Thrice

I have completed the first of not one, not two, but three trips to downtown Minneapolis I will take over two days, or technically (from the time I got into downtown for my first trip in yesterday/Saturday till the time I will leave downtown for my last trip out tonight/Sunday night) about 31 hours, give or take.  It really doesn't make sense for me to hit the same place thrice in such a short amount of time, but I'm doing it.

The two times today/Sunday are the "important" times.  In the afternoon I have to go get a hard hat I won at an auction (if I explain this in a blog post, that means I've overcome my shame), and six hours later there's a Timberwolves Game for which I got a free ticket.  I will not stay in downtown Minneapolis for six hours, especially when I can work on my taxes instead.  I guess I could have skipped going to my college Game-watching bar and just listened to the Frozen Four Final on satellite radio instead, but I wanted to see it in public.

I wonder, though, if I should use the minivan in the afternoon.  I don't want to tax my car, and it seems stupid overkill to drive it to the same place twice.  Plus, I need to put the van through a more rigorous trip than just the grocery store.

Outdoor Baseball? Mmm, Sorry

I was invited out to a Saints Game that took place last/Thursday night by alumni groups that we are trying to build relationships with.  As much as I wanted to go, I didn't think I could because work would probably make me late for First Pitch, and as a general rule, I don't want to go to a Game when I know I can't get to its very beginning.

I had other reasons I didn't want to go.  Another of my principles is that I will not pay for parking if I can help it, and St. Paul extends their street parking well into the evening.  That meant that I would have to park out of the downtown zone and then ride the light rail in, and that means I would have to figure out, build in, and get out of work at a fairly early time (as it is nowadays) to factor in public transportation and to make First Pitch.  Also, yesterday was a humid day, and I was not feeling hanging out in outdoor stands getting sweaty (and possibly with the sun beating down on me) trying to get to know people in order to organize more alumni events.

So I decided on Wednesday that I probably couldn't attend, and I let the lead organizer know.  And then the damndest thing happened.  I don't know what was up at work, but the heavy workload that I anticipated, and that has reliably been overwhelming ... wasn't there.  As many forms came into the building as it usually has, but apparently nearly all of them had the complete and correct information.

So, did I decide to go to the Game then?  Nope.  I realized that while I couldn't make it to the Saints Game if I got out of work too late, I didn't want to go to the Saints Game if I got out of work too early.  I had no interest yesterday to think of something to do for 90 minutes to two hours before I made my way to St. Paul.  And there was still the weather, which, admittedly, was not as sweat-inducing as I thought it would be, but was in no way comfortable for me to hang out for a 2 1/2-hour baseball Game.

So I went home.  And ate dinner (alone; I thought that since I got home at a not-insane time, my parents and I would eat dinner together, but alas).  And then I fell asleep for about an hour.

I hope these organizations have another shindig I can get to.  I really do want to try and attend one.

Passive-Aggressive Confrontation At The Ice Cream Place

OK, so a few weeks ago I was enjoying a final Sunday before my folks came home, and I decided to go to this ice cream parlor kind of close to me -- not for ice cream (I think I've gotten more lactose intolerant, if that's possible), but for their burger, which is consistently lauded around town.  I think they're good, but I have had a few in the area that have blown me away.

Anyway, I was going to sit down to eat my burger and fries.  There is an outside deck and it was fairly crowded, but there were a couple seats available.  So I promptly lay on the counter my food right above a seat that was next to this couple.  And the male of the couple says, "Aup -- my son's sitting here," and he quickly jerked the stool right next to him.

I did the polite Minnesota thing.  No, I only did a blend of the polite Minnesota thing.  See, my old age has given me repeated instances of honing my passive-aggressiveness -- come to think of it, that's a Minnesota thing too -- to the point where I am getting better at shooting off comebacks that are nice on the surface but is delivered with a side of bile and bite.  Maybe it's not good in a polite society to be so on-edge that you have such a witticism at the ready, but we are no longer in a polite society.  So, as I picked up my food to move down to another open seat, I said, "Ope, sorry about that," and I know I had an unmistakable tone I said that with.  Heh-heh.

It's not as if the old guy was lying; his son came out from the bathroom and starting eating with his parents.  I could've just left it there ... but that's not me.  From that point onward, I was thinking of one more shot, one more dig whereby I could taunt or bait him, maybe even pick a fight with him if he is as prone to anger as I am.  Hell, my parents were coming home -- why not fight?

(Aside: This place is great if car-cruising was a thing.  The place is fronted by a three-lane road, with one lane in the middle for cars taking lefts.  It's speed-controlled, too, which is a good thing for pedestrians.  It's also good for drive-bys.  All guys who are strapped need to do is roll by at 15 miles per hours and light up the place, and me.  Glad I didn't have any enemies out to get me then -- well, besides this dude.  Anyway, back to my story:)

I finally decided I would look at him, and I mean stare at him until I got his attention, then say goodbye to him.  Not say anything, but acknowledge his leaving in a way that would make him notice.  That would assume a few things.  For one, he would have to leave before I do.  For another, he would have to walk my way in order for me to flag his attention.  And, for finally, he would have to see me.  But if all those conditions were met, bam!  I got his ass!

So he and his family got done before me.  Then, they walked on the sidewalk in front of me.  See, this is my chance.  They were walking slow, so I just stopped eating and looked at him, intently.  He glanced at me -- and I just gave him a wink, a "See ya around, pal!" type of thing.  And he ... gave me a smile.

Uh, what was that?  He didn't seem triggered or put off.  In fact, he didn't seem, uh, mad at all.  Now, he could've been cursing me up and down by the time those three got into their car -- "What the hell was that?" type of thing.  Or -- um, he just honestly said that stool was for his son, and that's all he meant by it.  Which means I overreacted to something that just happens.  And there's nothing more to it than that.

Shit, was that all that it was?

2024 New Year's Resolutions

I made them a long, long time ago, but I hadn't since because it was depressing to see me fail to keep them so often.  But I have reflected a bit late in 2023 and thought of some resolutions I want to work on.

I resolve to not think about doing violence to people who have wrong me while I'm daydreaming.  It's a waste of time, I sabotage my day, and my heart rate goes up whenever I think it.  I need to stop that.

Also, and this might be contradictory, I resolve to speak my mind more.  I think I do that already, and that's a product of old age, specifically not caring about what people think of me and feeling as though my age gives me some standing in public.  But I still have opinions, and I shouldn't be afraid of voicing them.

And you know, I resolve to drive a lot calmer.  I hate doing that, but because of my recent brushes with car catastrophe, I think I need to go easier on my car, and that means accelerating easier and settling on a slower top speed.  I have to keep this one for a while.

I think those are enough resolutions.  I don't want to break any more than these.  And more difficult resolutions, such as eating better and watching my weight ... yeah, let's not get grandiose here.

Driveway Head!!!

So this morning/afternoon I am going to see ****e one more time before she spends a month in Mexico.  I didn't think I would see her for another week or two -- I figure I could fuck her monthly -- but she's leaving soon, and the winter so far has, well, not been winter, so I figure I should take advantage of the lack of snow and the relatively balmy weather and drive down there while it's surely to be incident-free.  (I plan on using the minivan, though -- wish me luck it makes it down there and back!)

About three weeks ago when I last saw her, she immediately bolted out of the front door when I rang the doorbell.  ****e asked if I could take her to the nearby liquor store so she can buy some alcohol for herself and for the person who lives in the basement part of the house -- he drinks a lot, she says.  I don't mind.  It gave me a chance to surprise her by whipping it out in the car!

I started the car while she went back in to grab a coat and lock the door.  I made sure no one was around, then took out my cock.  She got in, we kissed, and I said, "We're both happy to see you!" as I thrusted my dick at her.  Now I've taken her to the liquor store once before, so she has touched my pee-pee before I exited down the driveway.  She dutifully did that this time.  But this time, I may or may not have said, "Now, do you wanna kiss it?"  And she readjusted herself, tipped her head down, and sucked my dick while I was sitting in the driver's seat.  I don't think anybody caught us.  How fucking wild is that shit?!

Don't know if she's going to ask to be taken to the liquor store again.  But if she does, hope she gives me driveway head again.  Hey, I was going to watch the EPL in downtown for the first time in a long time, but she said today would be the best day to see her, so if the opportunity for driveway head presents itself, I'm fuckin' taking it!

Can I Be Ungrateful Just For This One Moment On Thanksgiving?

So work was a bear yesterday/Wednesday.  Didn't think it'd be so goddamn busy the day before Thanksgiving.  But per usual, the lab dropped a shit ton of work on me in the afternoon, so I knew I was staying late.  And that meant that I got out to the liquor store late, and that meant I got out to the speakeasy downtown late enough that there were too many fucking people to find a seat, so I had to go to another speakeasy which was also so busy that I had to stand up the whole time.

Oh, and I did not hear back from the MNF people about working the Vikings Game.  They called me out of the blue to see if I could help for the Game against the 49ers earlier this season and because they blindsided me, I had to say no.  This Game against the Bears comes up, and I don't hear from them.  I e-mail the person who e-mailed me before to say hey, this time I am available.  No answer.

That led to a cascade of shit at work.  I took Monday off, just in case.  But I had planned to take back my paid time off if I didn't hear from MNF in time.  I guess I should've pulled that back sooner, because yesterday my boss came in and told me and another co-worker our roles for next week.  I don't think he would have rejiggered them if I told him in time I in fact did not need to take the day off.  Oh, well.  I'm taking it off anyway because my supervisor, who's filling in for me that day, has lined up her day so that she can go to an appointment close by.

(Aside: I am taking next Friday off because that's when I get my check-up.  Also, because I apparently am not working MNF, I am filling in for someone on Sunday.  Finally, my boss was hoping I could take next Thursday off, too.  So I had initially planned to work five days next week when there was a chance I would be working only two.  I don't get it.  But I think it's all straightened out now.)

Fuck it, I'm off today.  (Though I'm not off tomorrow, and apparently that is going to be a hell of a day too, even though I don't fucking understand how we could get work from Thanksgiving, which is a federal holiday, but fuck it, I'll get my hair cut some other fucking day, I guess.)  I need to be grateful for the day off, for the good drinks the bartender made for me, for getting home in one piece, for getting to Subway for my annual turkey sandwich I get for myself before they closed last night, and for getting seven hours of sleep.  Happy Thanksgiving.

Finally Rotated My Pants (Well, Sort Of)

One of the big household chores I really, really wanted to do and should have done sooner I did yesterday/Sunday -- well, I began doing, and beginning to do sometimes is half the battle.  I have a lot of pants, but I have one old-school drawer, of which I only dedicate one, uh, drawer to pants.  So what I do (or want to do actually) is to stuff in this drawer all the pants I want to use and stash the rest in a hamper in my closet.  Once a season or once a year -- at least theoretically -- I would take out the hamper and switch out the pants I have used for the ones that I have stashed.

I say theoretically because it's been more than a year, and possibly two years, since I rotated them.  I've been meaning to finally do that ever since my parents left, and finally I had time yesterday/Sunday afternoon to, well, start.  I have a lot of pants that don't fit me, and with me getting older and my damn waistline getting bigger, I needed to devote some time to trying them all on to see if they still fit.  I think I tried on some pants that haven't fit me for years, but yesterday/Sunday was finally the day I had the courage to set them aside and intend to give them away.

Whether or not they had fit in the past and now don't or if they've been too small for me for many seasons now, I have set aside four pants (one set of jeans and three khakis) that I will donate.  There is one pair of khakis that juuuuuuuust fit me; I think I will wear them once, try to breathe in them while doing something public real quick, pop the button and then run home before anyone notices.  And if that button doesn't pop, well, I'm still skinny enough for them!

All the rotating-in pants that still fit me are lying on the floor.  I'm going to have to take out the ones that will rotate out, stick them in the hamper, and then see if the drawer has enough space for all the pants rotating in.  I might do that now.  I might do that two months from now.  Who knows?

No Tool For Halloween

Week late, but I want to blog post this before I forget.

My usual thing I do for Halloween in order to avoid trick-or-treaters at my house is to go to Hooters and then a strip club.  Since my ATF at My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Edition) intimated she wasn't going to work that night and I shied away from going to the downtown clubs because downtown might have been crawling with partygoers, I decided to go to a coffeeshop to just work on my computer.  Those plans got all shot to hell because (and I think I already said this here on WAF) that shop closed early.  I drank a milkshake at the ice cream parlor next door.

But there was one completely different plan I was considering.  The alternative metal legend Tool had its concert that night at the Xcel Energy Center.  It seemed fitting that that group would be playing on Halloween.  Anyway, these guys don't play here every day; what would happen if something happened to one of the band members?  The arena should have been teeming with people who would be out somewhere else celebrating the holiday were it not for the show.  I don't really celebrate the holiday at all; why don't I go and catch them before I regret not catching them, I thought?

I finally decided against it.  For one thing, the cheapest price (bought firsthand) was $70.  And tied into that price is the fact that, well, I'm not a big fan of Tool.  I've heard "Stinkfist" a lot, but I can't say I'm familiar with the band's work.  So ultimately, I don't think I would've enjoyed myself, even if it was an excuse to avoid Halloween celebrants -- even though, come to think of it, I'm pretty sure Tool fans would have come dressed for the concert anyway.

---

This is the second time in 2023 I decided not to go to a concert on a holiday.  Fleet Foxes was playing at First Avenue on Independence Day (or Night, as it were).  I think I decided not to go for two reasons: One, I was afraid downtown Minneapolis would be gnarly out on Independence Night; and two, I don't think my parents would have liked me to go downtown on a big holiday, and I didn't want to start a fight with them about going out.

Masking Nowadays

Went to the Queens Of The Stone Age concert last/Sunday night.  Quick review: Josh Homme (still don't know how to pronounce his last name) I think missed a couple notes and a couple lines (QOTSA did a gig in Chicago as part of Riot Fest down there the day or night before), but he was still his brusque, inscrutable self.  The important thing is he played all the songs I like of them the most, including one they don't play all that often, the one that got me hooked on QOTSA in the first place: "The Lost Art Of Keeping A Secret."  (I think Homme missed a couplet in that one.)  The show ended with the triangular light set-up on-stage shining so bright I had to shield my eyes.  The band left the stage at that point, presumably without saying goodbye.  Well, that's them, I guess.

Since Saturday, I thought about whether to attend the concert in a mask.  Since the pandemic is ... waning, I guess (and I will get the shot ... soon ... as soon as I have time), I have largely gone back to normal -- with one exception: I mask up.  Not as much as the thick of the pandemic, though.  And my mask-wearing has ebbed in many ways.  If I go indoors to eat, for example, it's about 50/50 that I even bring a mask, let alone wear one.  I am eating, and if a mask is there to protect you from the coronavirus but only if you put it over your nose and mouth, it won't help a lick if you're eating, so why bring it?  I have to admit, though, that peer pressure goes into my thinking a lot more than, uh, common sense.  I wouldn't care about wearing a mask to, say, Hooters if I didn't think I would get shit over it.  (And that's why I hope that the motherfucker who shouted at me "COVID's over!" at the State Fair, well, dies of COVID.  Fucking bully can go fuck himself.)

There are a couple of calculi I thought about for the concert.  It is a concert, and even though I got a cider to drink, you're there to watch music being played, not to eat.  It would make a lot more sense, then, to wear a mask that'll be in your face a lot more than it wouldn't be.  And if there was a, uh, gentler band I was going to see, I would have gone all out, N95 and everything.  But while I like Queens Of The Stone Age, and I think they have some, uh, progressive stylings to them, they're still a rock band, and I felt as though I would get shit for wearing an all-out mask to the concert.

I was going to wear my KN95, which appears to be the mask du jour for the (few) people who do wear masks while going out, but I don't know where it is.  I'm afraid I lost it, or threw it away.  I've had it for a while, so maybe I needed to get rid of it.  Anyway, without that in my car, I thought about double-masking -- a surgical mask underneath those cloth ones that have a pocket for a filter inside it.  (Remember those?  No one talks about them now.  I wonder if scientists have come to unanimous agreement that they don't work.)  But I have one cloth mask that is dotted with the logo of my alma mater, and I was afraid I was going to get ridiculed.  And then the other cloth mask I have in my glove compartment has a tear of blood.  I wanted to look bad-ass when I ordered it way back in the teeth of the pandemic, but 1) that blood tear isn't lined up right, and 2) I was really scared that someone would look at me and think I was trying to be bad-ass when, if you look at me, I'm not, and that guy was going to come up on me and challenge me.  Didn't want that if the crowd at the QOTSA was full of Republican tough guys.

So I wore just a surgical mask.  I'm not ready to declare them useless, but I think there is a long-standing consensus that they don't work all that well compared to N95s and even KN95s when it comes to preventing contraction of the virus.  And I was not razzed at all at The Armory.  But the few people I saw there were wearing the better KN95 masks, and seeing so many people breathing out in the enclosed rock hall, I conjured up paranoid visions of breathing in the virus.  So why in the hell didn't I just go all out and wear my N95?  I have many of them at home, and I haven't used any of them in weeks.  A concert would have been the perfect occasion to use them.  And so what if I get beat up for wearing one?  At least I wouldn't get COVID-19 too, right?

I am so disappointed in myself for caving into public perception at the cost of my health.  My main concern when thinking about wearing a mask is, "How would other people think about me wearing one of these things?" and not, "Would I be safer wearing a mask?"  And I've thought that way for too, too long.  I need to have the balls to wear a proper mask out in public, and fuck what strangers think.

I Am Afraid I Am Getting Mask Fatigue

I continue to wear surgical masks at work.  You never know, and besides, if there is ever a place to keep wearing a mask, it's in an indoor setting where you're relatively close to people for 8 1/2 hours a day, right?

Well, sometimes the masks I get are bad.  I've come to the conclusion that the boxes the masks come in have varying degrees of quality.  Sometimes the masks are relatively small for my face, so when I stretch the loops to take it off (to drink, to blow my nose, etc.), they snap loose.  If one does, it's almost certain that the next mask I get, which likely will come from the same box as the first one, will also be too small and also will snap.  And they do.  I have gone through half a dozen one morning.

And I am going through a similarly bad run as of late.  I believe I had to get a new mask twice on Monday and twice one day last week.  Yesterday/Wednesday was going to be different; it was going to be a day where the mask lasts the whole day (it usually does).  But about an hour before I was done with work, I unhooked myself to finish off my coffee and snap! there went the loop of the mask.

And to be quite honest, my initial thought was: "Well, I'm only going to be here for an hour longer.  I can go without it."  But then common sense (as well as a pull to toward the routine) kicked in and I grabbed another mask.  (It seemed larger than the one I had been wearing all day, for the record, so I'm guessing it came from a different box, a better one.)  But that thought wasn't uncharacteristic of me as of late.  I am getting mask fatigue.

I have resumed how I lived my life before the pandemic began: I go out to eat a lot and attend movies and concerts when I want (well, my previous blog posts about passing the Fleet Foxes show notwithstanding).  I usually wear a mask, and quite often an N95 mask I have hoarded (and sometimes, at least for this hazy summer of smoke, a ventilated N95) over a surgical one, either one I have in my car or, if I'm going somewhere straight from work, the one I have been wearing at work.  But I've been slipping.  I have slipped my masks off indoors when eating or drinking something, and now, when I sit down to eat, I keep it off until I put it back on.

Lately I have stopped putting a mask on if I'm dashing into, say, a gas station to pay for gas.  I have let my guard down for longer periods as of late, too; I watched Bullitt Monday night (and have I told you how much of a badass motherfucker Steve McQueen is?) and I kept my mask off after I got done eating my popcorn and drinking my Coke.  Moveover, the past couple weeks I have become acutely aware that I am one of the vanishing few walking around with a mask on when I have been at, say, Target or the Mall Of America (I really felt awkward when I was at the latter Independence Day/Tuesday).  I hate that I have allowed to creep into my head the thought: "Do other people think I look stupid still wearing a mask?"

I don't know if COVID-19 has reached an endemic phase.  Maybe it's still a problem but The Media isn't covering it, so it's easy to dismiss now as a dark chapter in humanity's history that's finally behind us.  But like I said, you never know if some chump coughing up a storm next to me while pushing past me on the concourse at Allianz Field (I know I'm going to lose my temper there again on Saturday) is spewing the 'Rona.  Or the flu; that can still circulate during the summer.  And heck, mask-wearing might come back into vogue in the winter months, when more people are cooped up indoors and the coronavirus won't be automatically vitiated by the outdoor air.  But yes, I am catching myself slipping from mask-wearing.  Some of it is risk I'm willing to accept.  But I think some of it is me finally getting tired of a killer that might not be tired of me.

Vexed By The Pushy And By The Slow

Alright, another instance where I hate myself.

So I was at the United FC Match Saturday night.  And goddammit, like last time, I had lost my temper by some skeetering prick pushing and slaloming his way past me and everybody else on his way to God knows where.  And just like last time, I took it upon myself to catch up to him in order to ... well, just like last time, I don't know, I don't fucking know.  So armed with pissed-off energy, I slalomed and pushed my way past people in order to catchup to this short motherfucker, who, thankfully, was going into the MNUFC store, just like me.  I finally caught up to him on the line going into the store.  And now that I was the dog who finally caught the car, the only thing I thought to do let this asshole know I got him was ... fan him with my program.  That's all I could come up with.  Now I was smart enough to stop after we got in to the store.  Well, maybe I stopped after we walked in a few steps.  Or several.

Affter I "accomplished my mission," and went to grab a beer, however, there was another goddamn pissant pushing his way past the crowd.  This is a tall (and probably Mediocre) White Guy who didn't have manners because he didn't he had to mind his.  So this red fucking mist descended on me again.  This piece of shit I failed to catch; he was too tall before he dove into the men's room.  But in trying to catch up with this pushy fucker, I got held back by a few slowpokes, and this time around, they really, really pissed me off.  In particular there were these two big dudes, one of whom I remember being dressed in a Portland Timbers jersey.  They were taking their time, talking to each other and walking very, very slowly -- slowly enough where I would have gone around them if I weren't fucking hellbent on revenge.  I was able to look around them, however, and I saw no one.  There was space in front of these two dudes for at least 15 feet.  And that angered me to no end.  Couldn't they see they're blocking up the concourse for everyone else?!  Again, if I weren't trying to catch up to that pissfuck, I might have taken a more calm approach to getting around them.  But I was, so I literally shoved my way past them.  Rudely.  And frankly, for at least those two, I'm glad I did.

Saturday night was a reminder that I'm no good around crowds.  People walk too slowly, so I push my way past them.  People walk too fast, and I take it upon myself to passive-aggressively extract my vengeance upon them.  Later on my walk to grab a beer, I ran into a group of people, all talking to each other, who may or may not have been in line, and I fucking hate those people too.  And like before, I would have dealt with that situation better if I weren't so pissed off in the first place.  I probably went around them, but it was possible I cut in front of them, if they were in line.

Looking back, I don't like how I acted.  But I lose my temper when I see unmannered people like that.  So maybe I should just get to the stadium, get food, get my beer, and then just go up to my seat.  But there are just so many people coming out to the Match that I'll still see asshole pushing his way through, and I'll just have to be a sheepdog and try and fucking hunt him down because I can't help myself.

RIP, COVID-19 Testing Place

So I went to the community COVID-19 testing place on Saturday.  Nowadays I drop by there just before visiting Grandmother's best friend in the nursing home.  What I do is swab my nose there, drive all the way down to either a Burger King or Dairy Queen (oh, wow -- king or queen ... I just got that), eat while getting the results of the test and, assuming it's negative (it was never positive), I could then proceed to see her at the nursing home.  Did that monthly for the past ... oh, many, many months.  It became a ritual, and this site became a place I didn't mind visiting to get a test because it was the state government's way of providing me with a means to see that I'm healthy enough to visit someone very old without fear I could give her something that could kill her.

That place is closed now.  Didn't know it when I went there Saturday, but I saw a sign saying that it closed ... well, I think it said January 30, which is a Monday, which is kind of a weird day to close up shop.  That place wasn't going to stay open forever, and with this impending end to the emergency declaration for the pandemic on May 11, its days really were numbered.  But I thought it would be open until then.  Moreover, this is Minnesota, a blue state completely run by Democrats.  I think they'd be smart enough to keep this community testing site open as a service to the public.  But it's closed, and I miss it because schlepping out there became a part of my life that used to be a pain the behind but became a familiar beat to my routine.  But it's gone now, gone forever.

May 12, 2023: Revenge Of The Anti-Vaxxers? (ETA at 4:46 P. M. On February 11, 2023 That It Should Be Anti-*Maskers*)

Scary thought popped into my head as I was doing some late-night grocery shopping at the local Hy-Vee last/Monday night.  As per usual nowadays, I was shopping with a mask on.  You may have heard that President Biden is going to end the country's COVID-19 emergency declaration Thursday, May 11.  That will end free tests, vaccines and treatments, which sucks, so I'll have to stock up on tests to take home and, maybe, get one final COVID shot for old-time's sake.

But I thought of one ripple effect from this.  Even though the end of this declaration has nothing to do with it, and even though it's no longer a requirement anyway, I wonder if I'll be able to shop, or do anything in public, with a mask on after May 11.  It's the imprimatur, the message implied by this end: "THE PANDEMIC IS OVER!" (even though it's not).  And if The President Of The United States says the pandemic is over, well, you scared, paranoid freak, why won't you take off your mask?

Admittedly I'm thinking about this because of what happened when I went out to eat at the place our club watches our alma mater's football Games at downtown Minneapolis Sunday night.  Some dude, obviously drunk, saw me sit down with my mask still on and asked me, several times, slightly varying his wording, why the hell am I still wearing a mask.  He repeatedly said he was "Just asking questions," to which I wanted to say that he was being a JAQ-off (JAQ?  Get it?  It's an acronym!), but I am going to assume he was sincere, even though I know he thinks I'm stupid for still wearing a mask when everybody at the bar and, I guess to him, around the world has stopped.

Add to the supposed order stupid people will think President Biden has made the real law that private companies can deny service and even order people to leave their properties, and I don't think I'm paranoid when I say I'm afraid I'll walk into a grocery store or a bar with my mask on, some dude that works there is giving me a hard time by saying, "You know, the President says the pandemic's over, you don't have to wear that thing anymore," and I'll reply, "I know ... force of habit," and then he'll say, "Seriously, take it off," and I'll go, "No, man, I'm keeping this on, please leave me alone," and then this asshole will escalate things and I'll either be led out in handcuffs or literally thrown out with my face pummeled ... and no mask.

I totally think this could happen.  There are a bunch of idiots who don't believe this pandemic was ever real and rail against all these COVID restrictions that have not been in place for at least 18 months and want to react violently against anything that reminds them of that dark time if those restrictions meant, to them, that they had their "freedom" taken away.  Masks, as powerful a preventative measure against getting any airborne disease as we have (although, to admit, I usually wear surgical masks and they don't stand much of a chance of preventing COVID from spreading), are its most conspicuous symbol.  So once they are given what they see as a green light from The Most Powerful Person In The Free World three months from now, hoo boy, they're going to make people pay.  They are going to get their revenge on all they believe enslaved them two and three years ago, even though those mandates were put in place to save lives, including and especially their ungrateful asses.  And I'll bet maskers are at the top of the list.

Great.  Another damn thing to worry about.

I'm exhausted.  And if not for that catnap I got just now, I would totally be tirangry.  Travel has got me so strung out.  And that I have been gone for two weeks and I have to get back to a snowpack I need to plow in order to get my cars out of the driveway has gotten me real anxious.  Worst of all, I have to admit, is that I have asked people to pick me up to take me home, and no one is saying yes.  I could use a pick-me-up (literally) today, and it ain't happening.  So I'll have to use fucking public transportation for 90 minutes to see if the house is still standing or if the pipes have burst.

I have no friends.  And I am angry about that.

When speaking in public to impress people who are thinking about going to your college, wouldn't it be better to talk about what you're doing with the degree you got from that college, and not talk about sports?  Probably, and I probably stood out because no one else talked about sports.  But hey, better to be an awkward weirdo than a liar, right?

Hottest Babe In The Hooters Calendar: August 2022

Since that month was mostly spent in my drawer, I have had to linger on this month for a while now to take all ten babes in even though I hung it up in September after my parents left.  It's time to make a judgement, and it's based on a sentiment I have heard is misogynistic: I like women who smile.  Now I get that that statement might sound creepy, but I say that it's only from creeps and groomers who spit out that yang in some craven way to get tail.  Smiling is a gesture of kindness and grace in society.  You approach someone with a smile, you are more likely to get what you want because you are saying that you are a nice person who appreciates what that person can do for you.  There is a rightful currency in public for smiling, and I don't think I should be canceled because I think this way.

As it applies to Hooters waitresses showing skin, I have gone back and forth between five of the ten who stand out for August '22.  I keep looking at the month and re-evaluating, but eventually I believe that, at least for this month, I prefer the ones who are smiling.

So, in ascending order:

In fifth place is Sierra of Ft. Myers, Fla.  Blonde with a periwinkle two-piece bikini, she is smiling and reclining, but sorry, her arm in front of her is a big distraction.  This would be an awesome picture if that arm weren't there.  (Now, I wouldn't know where Sierra should put that arm instead without falling over, but, well, that's how I feel.)

In fourth place is Baylee, hailing from Brandon, Fla.  Another blonde with long hair; green-blue two-piece, and she's clutching the sides of her bikini bottom.  But she's not smiling.  No, she's not frowning either, she's just got neutral expression.  And that's OK, but she's on this list mostly because of her stunning body.

In third place is Alyssa, out of Brunswick, Geo.  Long blond hair; two-piece bikini; and like with Baylee, Alyssa is clutching the sides of her bottom, alluding to her pussy.  She's shown with her body directly facing the camera, which is a very good thing.  The problem: She's not smiling, and for her and this photograph, it's a drawback.

In second place is Brianna, of Joliet, Ill.  Long brown hair, very light blue (maybe eggshell?) two-piece.  And yeah, she's smiling, and very broadly, and that makes her sexy in a very cute way.  The only downside to her photo: She has her arms crossed in front of her.  I think she's got a great bod, and I wish I could only see it.

Finally, in first place is Lexi, out of Davenport, Iowa.  The fourth out of the five with long blonde hair, and the third out of the five wearing a perwinkle/very light blue/eggshell two-piece bikini.  She's a little small up top, but that's no crime.  I love that she has her arms holding her head.  But her smile, though not as wide as that of Brianna (it may be more of a smirk, albeit a sexy one) makes that entire shot.

So, congratulations to Lexi, and to all the others who I have pointed out.  I will masturbate to you -- when I have time, which I hope to have before the end of September, because I don't want a backlog of Hooters months to jerk off to.

Closed And Closed

Had yesterday off.  Wanted to make yesterday my monthly fuck of ****e, but she is not returning texts right now.  I then pivoted to *****a, but she didn't come back from her vacation till the evening.

So, when the alarm woke me up at 10 (I went to sleep around 1:40, and I'm sure I would have slept later than 10 if not for the alarm clock ... which means that I needed sleep bad, and I got it), I had the whole day to myself.  I decided going into yesterday that I was going to eat at Boomin' BBQ, a food truck parked next to a craft brewery store and that I was finally going to tackle the receipts in my pants.  But I decided it was finally time to exercise.  And since I was going to be up in Brooklyn Park, I was going to both get tested for COVID-19 and see if ******a is still around and, maybe, give me a massage.

It's been months since I got tested for the virus.  I was fully vaccinated as of mid-May, so why would I need to?  Well, all this talk about fully-vaccinated folks getting infected and sick has freaked me the hell out.  (I'll be honest: I really thought the vaccine was going to stop infection.  Getting sick from COVID-19 after vaccination, even if the symptoms are manageable enough where you just stay in bed, seems like a raw deal to me.)  It may not alter my behavior, but what if I do have COVID?  I may not feel it, but if I do have a positive, it'll make me at least think twice about going out in public.  Besides, I kind of, well, missed getting a test.

So I went up to the abandoned market that serves as the testing site.  But when I got there, the place was padded up.  I thought I saw on the news that many other sites were closing up, but not this one.  Maybe this was an abrupt change?  But I just checked the state COVID-19 website.  They have shortened their hours.  They now open, all seven days, at 11 in the morning.  I got there about a half-hour before then.

Seeing as now they in all likelihood are open kind of blows up the tie-in theme to this blog post, but I'll push forward with it anyway.

My next destination was ******a's place, which was five minutes away.  She had been going through some things the last time I saw her, but I was hoping she would either text me back or return my calls since our last conversation.  Instead, she's been a ghost.  And I wonder if she is ghosting me.

So, I drove to her apartment complex.  Well, more like drove past.  I wasn't going to knock on her door.  I was just going to see if I caught her somehow out of her apartment.  She does chores sometimes.  Sometimes, she's sunning herself -- she's a sun worshipper.  But when I drove past, I didn't not see her.  All I saw was her outside windows completely shuddered, and with a combination of cloth curtains and papers pushed up against the windows mish-mash style.  I couldn't help but notice all the other exterior windows; they all had vertical blinds.  ******a doesn't.  It's a sign of someone who, well, either doesn't see the use in spending money on blinds or is hurting in some way.  In fact, I wonder if she has just walled herself in from the outside world, and isn't coming out until ... well, I don't know what will finally get her outside.  Honestly, I'm kind of scared as to what her current mental state is.

Sorry, Young Man, I Just Wanted Some Sanitizer

So after work on Sunday I decided not to walk in the park because it was cloudy and windy and relatively cold.  Instead, I went to Potluck, the new food court at Rosedale.  For the past two months they're "celebrating" ranch dressing, which I guess is a thing with White people?  But it's good, and to "celebrate," nearly all the stalls have special foods with ranch as an ingredient.  It lasts through the end of the month.  Wanted a quiet Sunday afternoon off by myself, so I went.

I decided to get a biscuit from the, uh, biscuit place; they had a special ranch-flavored gravy or something.  Not bad.  But the wait was long, even interminable; they got caught flat-footed with the gravy and I guess it took a lot of time to make some.  In the meantime, I thought I should clean my hands.

Around this particular area of the food court, there are hand sanitizer stations, of course.  But people need to do a better job of filling them.  I see empty stations in many places, and it happened when I walked up to the one right at the entrance to the rest of the mall.  So I cast my eyes around for another station.  That's when I saw a hand sanitizer pump on the counter for another place, one besides the biscuit place.  I didn't think nuthin' of going up there and using it.  But I didn't see the guy who was manning the cash register, just hanging out while sitting in a chair far from the cash register.  And when he saw me approach the front he bolted up as if to take my order, but then he quickly sat down as soon as he saw that I was just going for the hand sanitizer.  But when I saw him get up and then sit down, I made this sheepish look like I was saying, "Oh, sorry dude, just using the hand sanitizer!"

I didn't mean to trick the guy.  But I feel so guilty that he thought I was going to order something when I didn't that, I'm serious, I feel as though I need to buy something from him when I go to Rosedale again.  You know, just to make up for this mix-up.  I might go over there tomorrow, in fact.

Expenses Without Receipts

Should do this since right now I have nothing else to say.  Starting from Saturday, April 3:

• I have receipts from then back to Friday, March 26, when I went to Lisa's to get my shoes shined.  I short-changed her by a buck last month because I needed to save my singles for what I thought was a trip to the DMV where I thought I needed exact change (though it turns out it didn't matter because I could not go into a DMV right now -- see below), so this time around I gave her that buck, so with tip this cost me: $16.
• So Metro Transit, the public transportation system for the Twin Cities, a long time ago (like years ago) sent me this Go-To card that, initially at least, had ten bucks already loaded.  I kept it because I wanted to use it, but I never got around to it until around this time, because I think I found the card.  And I finally decided that, on the presumption that the ten bucks expired because it had been so long since it was sent (I think there was fine print saying that that money would expire), I was going to load money onto it and use it because I use public transportation ... uh, from time to time.  I had that afternoon off, so I was going to go a light rail station in downtown Minneapolis and pay.  And then I remembered that Metro Transit actually has an office downtown, so instead of potentially running into some crazy dude who would throw me in front of a train, I'd just go in there.  And then I checked and it looks as though there still was ten bucks in there, so maybe it didn't expire after all.  And then compelled me to halve the amount I was going to add to my card from ten to: $5.  ETA at 1:34 a.m. on April 20,2021 that I deleted this EWR because I in fact have a receipt for this.
• Back to Saturday the 20th -- I received my reminder that I needed to renew my license through the mail, about a couple months before it would expire, as I think reminders usually go out.  It did not occur to me that most DMVs would not operate normally (as in allow people to walk in to get their tabs, etc.) because of the pandemic, however, and so I didn't immediately go about getting it renewed until my birthday (and thus the expiration of my license) got close.  Then I looked online and the DMVs I go to for all this stuff is only taking reservations ... and the earliest reservations would be in late April.  I didn't think I would get busted for an expired license because it's the pandemic, you know?  But I started to get really antsy for fear I would get stopped in the five-to-six weeks until my reservation.  I e-mailed the state DMV, and in fact there were places that accepted walk-ups.  I went to the closest one, in St. Paul, anticipating long lines and waits for hours.  Actually, I was there a half-hour and got the application for my REAL ID (with new picture) done.  I was freaking out, and then I saw that it really was no trouble at all.  But I'm still glad I got this done with my license being expired only for three days.  Cost for license: $32.
• To celebrate (after going to Roy Wilkins Auditorium to get tested for COVID), I went to an Arby's in suburban St. Paul for mozzarella sticks (for which I used a coupon) and a Coke.  Total: $3.21.  ETA at 1:34 a.m. on April 20 that I deleted this EWR because I in fact have a receipt for this.
• Finally, on Tuesday the 16th, I snuck out after dinner to print out some basketball tournament-related materials and then saw ******a for a massage.  She was reaching to cover a light she said was too bright to her liking.  Her shirt was a no-shoulder one, so after she reached, she exposed her right tit.  I was ready to whip out my dick and begin to masturbate to her for that.  A man can dream, can't he?  Paid: $80.

Good through April 3.

So My Mask Masterpiece Is ... Not

So I did buy the mask with the public domain blood tear.  But I had a devil of a time positioning the tear.  You know, it only would make sense if the tear came down an eye, know what I mean?  But how could I know where the tear should be if, frankly, I didn't have a precise picture of me wearing the mask so I would know where the tear should be placed?

Vistaprint either had someone or an algorithm take my suggestions and concerns -- "Can you make the blood tear smaller?"  "Can you put the tear one inch closer to the ear?" -- and an e-mail would come, in short order, with the tear smaller, sometimes, and an inch closer to the ear, sometimes.  At some point I ran into a wall.  I could imagine where my eyes would be while wearing this disembodied mask I see on my screen, but I got back so many places where the tear was on the mask that I figured that one of them was "right," I just didn't know for sure which one.  So I picked one.

On Wednesday it came.  I tore open (impressive, Vistaprint!) the packet, unfolded the mask, saw the tear, went up to my mirror, took a deep breath, and put it on.  And ... I don't think the blood tear is in the right place.  Well, for one thing, although it looks as though the tear is below the left eye, it barely is.  Moreover, the tear is in the middle of the mask, and that looks way too low and far from the eye to make it look as though I have cried a tear of blood, which was my idea all along.

So, no.  Frankly, it doesn't look as cool as I wanted it to look.  And if I walk around with it in public, I think I'll be embarrassed because people will look at me and go, "Huh?"  But I have to tell you this: I have felt the Vistaprint mask, and it feels like a cloud!  It may not look good, but honestly, I want to wear this mask because it'll feel so silky good on my face.  I have heard great things about Vistaprint masks (and it has a filter pocket, too), so I think that if I am out on my own one night this winter to, like, just walk or something, I'll wear it.  It'll feel so good, and hopefully people won't point at the misplaced blood tear and go, "What the hell is that?!"