Today we talk women, and I’ve done nothing but what I pleased, at least so far. Here’s a recap to early afternoon. At 9:00 I took the car in for a supply run, where the blonde babe at Chiptech was shocked at my age being the same as her husband’s. The similarity must end right there, for she quickly added that must be because I "ride my bike all the time". Hmmm, I told her I’d be stag at a certain lounge tonight. Suffice to say that whatever age she is, she does not look it either, cough cough. She never showed. Housewives! No wonder I avoid them unless they look like that.
Back at Fred’s, I took a computer next door and re-hooked it to the network. It took longer than it should have because they used the dreaded Outlook Express. If you make any errors during the complicated setup, you cannot uninstall that sucker. It was an office full of spoken-for housewives-types “with pendulous breasts”. I am a leg man but it is hard to ignore something flaunted in your face. These particular globes had, as Julie K. once quipped, “done their job”.
[Photo delayed] See the picture of me standing in the front driveway with a bag of peanuts, roasted and salted in the shell. Life does not get much better. This gorgeous black lady came in today with an MP3 player by Creative. It took two of us a half-hour to find the main menu, much talked about in the manual but nowhere to be found on the unit. Fred found it, you touch the unmarked side of the case in a certain way.
Then, the store owner next door stopped me when I went for a soda. I don’t know what others have been feeding him, but I heard him out and yes, I will help him set up his bookkeeping. Some of the local CPAs have been quoting him a fortune just to set things up. I can identify with his situation, these locals think they can charge anything they want because you should borrow the money to pay them anyway, using the old “Isn’t your credit good enough?” con job. That’s what I’m doing right now, in the middle of the afternoon because I feel like it.
Interestingly, when I was working on the network, I mentioned to the women about going to the Diplomat tonight, jokingly referring to it as a pick up joint. Married or not, all of them spontaneously told me to try “Nicky’s”, right across the street. Must check that out. I first went back downtown to mail letters and check the shop for late emails. Nothing, but while I was there, that Sabrina++ called. Oops, my key shows that is a new name. This could be a break for me, maybe a job opportunity?
She inherited around twenty computers from a local college. None of them have operating systems or software. What she does have is a government grant to set up a network at the community center and teach computers. Except she does not teach. That is fine, I need her filling out government paperwork. The connection here is that we are by far the finest shop in Florida for this kind of undertaking. My rate around any kind of government work is close to three times what it would be otherwise, justified by the fact that the government does not work for the money, they just spend it.
My coffeeshop was closed early so I rode home. This is always easier said, since South Florida is on this ridiculous kick of sidewalk cafes. The problem is that their sidewalks have always been too narrow to begin with. Outdoor seating simply aggravates an already bad situation. Pedestrians cannot get through without shuffling sideways single-file through the tables. Although I do it, I don’t recommend bike riders use the roadways so you must use the sidewalk, and that is even more crazy than walking. (The nearby picture is from the year 2012 by which time the problem has become endemic.)Bicycles have to stop and queue up to get past. Often, you have to dismount and move chairs or ask people to stand up while you pass. This idiotic arrangement would not last long anywhere civilized but it seems to be getting worse every year in Florida. The premise itself is for toad-brains. Who else would order an expensive meal, then sit out in the Florida heat, dust and noise. Forget about bicycles and traffic fumes, you will have cigar smoke and sidewalk bums with strange diseases coughing all over your food. Don’t leave your plate unattended for a minute or the bag lady will get what the crows and pigeons leave behind.
A few of the older cafes have decent seating under awnings and umbrellas. I’m talking about these new places that appear to be blocking the way intentionally hoping you will give up and either sit down or trip over their furniture. Myself, I sail right through at speed, leaning on my bicycle bell. The only thing worse than the cafes are the patrons. Screw them.
This was great fun for the day, then I went over to the Diplomat. It took an hour, but I found this Nicky’s joint. It is not a singles place, but a place that puts about that it is for singles--big difference. Yuck, that is the last place any decent woman would go to meet a guy. The décor is great, with what amounts to outdoor beds. That is correct, instead of breakfast in bed, you have cocktails. All the sleazy lipo-suctioned divorces take this to mean lounge around in suggestive porno-like poses. Some guys actually like that. I glanced around for my brothers.
All the men seemed like barflies, clustered around the Tiki bar and all hitting on the one blonde babe in the place who was not a waitress. Maybe the place picks up really late because it was dead while I was there. While I could be miraculously visiting all the Florida singles bars on their one off night per year, chances are this place was never frequented by single women. No consolation, but at least every man in the place was older and fatter than me.
On the way back, Marion called. She has remembered my birthday every year. It was good to hear from her, we talked an hour till my batteries died. They [her and her husband] are paying three times the rent I am and are still in an apartment. Oh well, wait for the market collapse, those that have a decent job and are not up their eyeballs in debt may find themselves having their pick.
In all, it was a great day and things are looking up. That was said just before the phone rang ten minutes ago. JZ says he wants to head out here tomorrow and go to the casino. He doesn't know the casinos map every one of their "clients" and one day he will lose a fornturn. Now maybe he will listen when I tell him to take measures to keep his information private, and maybe quit criticizing when I won’t do certain things. Like register to vote in Florida.
He says he’ll call me tomorrow to come out so we can go to Gulfstream (he also gambles) but I’ll believe he'll make such a trip when he gets here.
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