Possum Hilton Redux

This evening, as most, finds yours truly at the Possum Hilton. Worked a shift for a girl who complained that she only got three days off a week. Go figure. If you haven't figured out that I use the phrase “go figure” a lot, you don't know me. I say it a lot. What it means is: here is something to think about that I have thought about, so, let me know what you think about it, because maybe we have come to the same conclusion. Whenever I write anything, that is what this phrase means.

Back at the PH! Yay! I just discovered more interesting things about my surroundings. Let me describe them to you (you, who may not even exist, if this blog is never read by anyone else): there is a space, which used to be a garage for two cars. There is an apartment above it. The foundation for the upstairs apartment is mostly of cinderblock. {here, there is a Strange Interlude}.

STRANGE INTERLUDE:

The winds howl outside ... I feel the chill, from the North ... always from the North ...

I hear a mad scrambling, in the walls, behind me ... could it be ...?

A rat! A rat! Could it be Dick Cheney? No, I reassure myself: it has no Secret Service detail with it, only a single, ropy, ratty tail, like that of a possum . It is fat, fat with the richness of a thousand billionaire bailouts! It waddles, bloated with amortizations, blathering excuses while it wields the whip without mercy. Its tail is scabrous, strangely ... not unlike that of an opossum ... then, BLACKNESS!

END OF STRANGE INTERLUDE.

So, not only do I have a possum as a roommate, but there is (at least) one rat, too. It appears to be a common black rat ( Rattus rattus) and not its larger and more aggressive cousin, the brown rat (Rattus norvegicus). I hope it doesn't carry the Plague. I would really hate to be Patient Zero for the coming pandemic. Of course, if I survived, there would be the book rights and the inevitable movie "based on a true story". Maybe I could get Whitley Streiber to ghost it for me.

It was cold last night, in the PH, when I was writing my Strange Interlude. I had a bottle of chardonnay to keep me warm, but I would rather have had a roaring fire. That isn't really practical at the PH, as there is no fireplace. I've got to get on the landlord about that; that and the lack of a jacuzzi, wet bar and continental breakfast (a free one: not the Courtyard by Marriot sneaky I'll-just-tack-that-onto-your-account-shall-I? type). All hotels should have free continental breakfasts, and free Depends for incontinental breakfasts.

I texted Travis to see if I could borrow their shower this AM, but he was at the library, so it will be a quick sponge bath in the employee rest room at work for me. I probably won't get another shower until Thursday which is "hotel day". I live for "hotel days" and Sundays with Travis and Fernando: I really don't do anything else for fun.

Watched the rest of Iron Man last night. Stan Lee is sure getting his props these days. If you think about it, Iron Man was kind of prescient: it was the first idea I can recall of augmented human systems, which robotics has been pursuing ever since, and which have actually been used, in a limited way, since the 1970's. I wonder if that suit gives Tony Stark climate control. Might be useful at the PH. Rodent control would be useful, too.

Bridget texted me bak and told me how sorry she was that I am homeless, but that her brother died and she had to pay for the funeral. Maybe I should die and she would pay for my funeral. Probably not. At any rate, her brother hasn't died for FIVE FUCKING MONTHS, so that just sounds like one more BS excuse to me.

I am sitting at CC's (like most mornings), drinking coffee and using the free WiFi. There are a few regular denizens here, who are always on their computers. I wonder if any of them are wireless nomads like me. Could be. That black guy who always sits in the corner: he is usually here when I get here and here when I leave. Hmm. Lots of students, but you expect that at any coffee shop, particularly if it has WiFi.

I work 2-8 today. If I get off in time, I will cruise by Serrano's (it's half-price margarita night). Oops: Kyle just called me and told me that I have to be there at 12, so I'd better go right now. Damn: I wrote 2 PM down on my little piece of receipt paper. Oh well, I a close to overtime, anyway, so I doubt if anybody will be too mad at me.

More later, probably from Serrano's tonight.