Wednesday, November 05, 2003  

This Weekend Away; Odds and Ends

So our house is falling The Fuck apart, and apparently now so is our car, so I'm not in much of a mood to post anything too boffo right now.

So: Friday and Saturday, I will be headlining at the Lake Ontario Playhouse in Sacketts Harbor, NY. I'm really looking forward to this gig. I opened there once for the legendary D.J. Hazard, and I'm psyched to get back there. I hope the feature act (one Rusty Ward, who I've never met but who looks hella funny) doesn't take it personally, but I have every intention of locking myself in my room and finishing a complete first draft of my current story.

Sunday night, I'm at a hotel in Geneva, NY. Not sure which one, really. If I thought that people in Geneva, NY were reading this blog and might come to the show, I'd go find out. But I don't, so I won't.

To answer questions I've gotten lately: I solved my bus problem by just blowing him off, I never found a new bag, and my new computer will make your computer cry.

Hostage Situation

You ever start out being a nice person, and then end up in a situation where the only way out is to be an asshole?

I take the 100 bus every morning to the Dreaded Day Job, and I don't mind it at all. In fact, since I have a 2-year old at home, it's really the longest stretch of free time I have available to me at any point during the week. Unfortuanately, last week, I struck up a "how's the weather" style conversation with the driver (since I get on at the first stop, I'm the only one on the bus when it leaves), which evolved into a discussion of our upcoming new furnace. Turns out he knows a shitload about furnaces.

In fact, he knows so much about furnaces, that today was the fourth day in a row where I was trapped in the front of the bus for my entire ride listening to him talk about them. And talk about them. And talk about them. Forced air, baseboard, radiators, zones, gas, oil, electric...he knows every goddamn thing there is to know about heating in Massachusetts. He's got this incredibly ruddy Irish face and this nearly impenetrable Revere accent, so for the first couple of days, in addition to getting some admittedly good advice on furnaces, I was digging on the whole performance aspect of it.

But I don't want to talk about furnaces every day for the rest of my commuting life. I want to read a book. Or look out the window. Or think dirty thoughts about the chick who dresses in black who gets on at Riverside. Or whatever, but now it's a pattern. I get on, he starts talking about furnaces (though today featured a lovely little detour into roofing tar), I sit there, and stay there until we get to the train station. The only way out of this is to totally blow him off and just keep walking to the back of the bus, and I don't have the heart to do it.

I already adjusted my schedule once to avoid forced conversation with my fellow bus riders...and I can't adjust later, so now I have to adjust two busses EARLIER if I want to read in peace. What is wrong with me that I'd rather get up 45 minutes earlier than just be a little rude one time to one guy?

Damn you, Colorado, for your manners!