Sunday, July 11, 2004 Sunday morning
Good morning. I'm awake. Even when I stay up late on Saturday nights, the light wakes me up, and I remain awake because I know that if we're all up early enough, we can go to the market under the expressway.
I don't even know why I like it there so much: I don't usually get excited about the opportunity to purchase vegetables. When I lived on the Eastern Shore, I went to the Saturday market in the park in town maybe twice, when I had visitors who needed entertaining in a wholesome manner. When I think about it, some of these visitors would have probably felt just fine about sleeping in, which is entertainment enough for many sane people.
For the past two weeks whatever contingent from the apartment that's gone has arrived too late to see the woman who sells Somalian food and gives you an extra hushpuppy or two if she likes you, but last week I turned my back for a minute and when I next saw her, my friend E.W. was stroking a stranger's chest. Before I died of shame, I did a little fact-checking by means of walking closer, and what she was petting was the giant black rabbit he was carrying with him. He and his girlfriend were taking the rabbit out to breakfast!
Last night some of the rowdier neighbors were setting off some of the fireworks that have been cunningly made to sound just like single gun shots, and then some of their pals, not to be outdone, brought out some made to sound like automatic weapon fire. The real pyrotechnic masters of the evening, though, were whoever it was who had the "screamers" that replicated the sounds of approaching sirens almost exactly. Bravo!
The rabbit was gorgeous. It had glossy fur, and it seemed pleased with the whole situation. If my roommates don't get woken up by the pyschic waves I am sending towards them soon, I will make coffee. If that doesn't work, I will wash the dishes in a fashion that creates more noise than is strictly necessary.
Later, they will read this, and they'll say "You've been doing that on purpose?"
I'm joking, of course, roommates. I'm never trying to wake you up. I'm just clumsy, and the dishes would bang like that even if I were trying to lull you to sleep. Pretend they are fireworks. It is summer, after all. posted by Frenz | 7/11/2004 08:16:00 AM
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