last night, the bastard has the house to himself. the rents went on their yearly trip out to greenport which is not to be confused with greenPOINT. who the hell wants to spend 5 days looking at hipsters and the 2 gaping holes in the ground where the gas tanks used to be? then again, why you want to go to the same goddam place every year for vacation. i tell you, i don't understand these old people. well, i know what your saying, "hey shiteyes, you go to las vegas every year", and that's true. but the bastard goes because it's business and because it's free, so go to hell.
anyway, i didn't take anything out of the freezer because they put everything in the freezer. this way mum can eat leftover beef stew that she made during the fucking cold war(get it? freezer? cold war? ahhhhhh go to hell, ya jerk). since everything that's been cooked in the last 10 years is on ice, i opted for the take out and a bottle of chianti left over from the shrink's 60th birthday party over the weekend and the mofo's copy of the usual suspects.
strangely enough i woke up well rested, not hung over and running on time. got ready, in the usual way and left at the usual time (more or less) only to find that the one day that i'm not rushing to get to the train, it arrives on time and is pulling out. next one isn't for another 45 minutes so i go back to the house to wait it out in air conditioned goodness when i run into mr october.
"get a load of this october, we missed the train"
"i think it was on time"
"impossible, the railroad's so late, you can set your watch to it"
"i don't know what happened but i just saw the train pull out and it said it was heading to flatbush"
"you sure it wasn't the 7:42?"
at that, the bastard spins his heel and walks right back towards the platform with mr. october. sure enough, like clockwork the 7:55 shows up at 8.
"what did you decide to go home and go back to bed"
"nah i was just going to go back and wait for the 8:40. or vic my mother's car and drive to the subway. or give up and go to bed"
"you know i don't understand why they don't just call this the 8 o'clock and not the 7:55."
"i don't know either october, the railroad never made sense to me. i'll take the stink of the subway any day of the week. more options"
"well you picked a helluva month to move back home. it's gonna stink down there"
"wouldn't have it any other way.