Doctor’s office yesterday. He wasn’t there.
The receptionist told me with ersatz compassion that they had tried calling me. They had tried cancelling.
She showed me the number they had for me. She let me see the evidence. The right digits, the wrong order.
I remembered telling the young woman who initially took my details. I remembered her thick accent. I knew that she didn’t understand what I was saying whilst I was saying it.
She’s not the only one. I get things so muddled. I can’t spell.
I mean, some words elude me…like the word ersatz. It baffles me.
Hot coffee, very hot microwaved coffee. It’s raining. The dogs are staying in bed.
The boys stayed out last night. I had a friend over. Lit a fire.
Yesterday this mad kid (Turkish origin) from Bel Air in Maryland left violent, racist messages on this blog. He used to call and text. He stopped texting and calling months ago after I threatened the police…so he sets up false Facebook accounts and tells me how he is going to kill me etc.
In his head he is best friends with Peres Hilton.
In his head he thinks he can leave anonymous notes…telling me that I am a disgusting negro lover…and not get caught.
Again, what this idiot, these morons don’t get? They leave their IP addresses , they leave crucial evidence. This is his: 220.127.116.11 It is linked to every email he ever sent, every message he ever wrote.
The kid is a tragic mess who needs help…but I ain’t the one to give it to him.
Robby said yesterday, after I texted some sweet note…’till death do us part’. So I reminded him that death was probably not so far off, (more deaths of contemporaries reported in London) that he would one day organize my funeral.
“Did you get a death threat?” he asked…
No. Not today.
Rain forecast for the next three days.
The kid who shot all those Afghans in their own homes last week…well, he is getting a media makeover.
They say he ‘snapped’, he was ‘drinking’, it was his ‘third tour’. Meanwhile whole families are dead.
Can you imagine the same excuses being made if an Afghan slaughtered an American family. Well, he snapped, he was drinking…he couldn’t take it any more.
Could you imagine those excuses being made?
More details are ’emerging’, more details are being manufactured so we can let this guy off the hook.
Meanwhile the tenant I had downstairs, Matty O’Neil…he has gone…leaving a disgusting mess behind him. The boys took a whole day cleaning up after him.
You know, this kid Matty spent time in jail because of his Arab origins? He was held in a jail after 9/11, probably held illegally by the US government…with his father when he was a young boy…yet when I suggested that his story and mine had similarities he told me imperiously, “I am an American! There are no similarities.”
He moved out, brought a motley crew with him. His sister, her girlfriend….his boyfriend.
The girlfriend was Chinese, the only one there with ancient Mayflower/American credentials was Matty’s boyfriend the acutely fay boy who works in the veterinary office in Malibu who Matty met on Grindr.
Deluded, the week before he left he asked me for a membership to the private club I belong to.
It made me smile. How the American children of immigrants quickly forget the struggles of their fathers.
“I pity you.” He said, as he was leaving.
Along with his pity he left two huge stains on the carpet, refused to pay his rent or accept responsibility for the mess…I pity his next landlord.