Nothing wakes a girl up like pulling into her parking spot at work just in time to see a homeless man with his pants around his ankles. He quickly covered his dangly bits, but for a split second I saw flesh...or at least flesh tones. While I struggled to avert my gaze and gather my bags, Hairy Homeless pulled up his shorts. and then another pair of shorts. and another. and another. then a pair of nylon jogging pants. then his jeans. Okay, I guess I wasn't doing a very good job at averting my eyes, but seriously, he was right there next to my car. It's not like I could avoid him altogether. Sadly, I missed the layering of the T shirt-T shirt-flannel shirt-jacket ensemble.
I want to crochet a bag for my friend's birthday and another one for another friend, but I needed supplies. I rounded up my maintenance pal and found an excuse to go to the lumber/hardware store. Now I used to work at a lumber yard back in Pennsyltucky. We did NOT sell fine cookware, scented candles, bathroom accessories, blenders, and other pretty things like they do here in West Hollywood.
When we got back, we saw this woman trying to park. I'm not parallel parking expert, but I'm sure better than this chick. (see illustration)
Her front fender was on the sidewalk, and her back end was in traffic. The Muscle and I were laughing and calling to her (from the safety of my office) "Back up, you moron." Even strangers walking down the street were laughing at her. Then, we felt bad because apparently, her gas guage doesn't work and she ran out of gas. She couldn't back up and straighten it out. Don't I feel like sheepish .
Well, it's Thursday and I'm tired already. Guess I'll go home and sleep...or maybe I'll start right now. zzzzz