Today started off pretty fucking shoddilly. I'd known for about a month now that I had to attend Shoplifting class today. Yes, that's right. After attending community court for being caught pilfering prismacolor art marker from my school bookstore, I was sentenced to attend a Shoplifting class. I have no idea what the fuck they could possibly teach me in shoplifting class but apparently it's important enough to warrant costing $120. The class was supposed to've begun at 8:30 and go until 4:30. I got in late last night after a night of debauchery that began at the Balazo gallery and ended at a loft party on 25th and Indiana at about 4:00 am. I know, stupid of me. So I got taxid home at about 5, set my alarm for 7:30, and crashed.
I actually woke up on time, before my alarm even had a chance to piss me off. I looked up diirections, got dressed, but then felt compelled to do a little pre-class wank. That took me a good 10 minutes so I didn't actually leave the house 'til 8:00. Ok, so after a little scrambling across streets and a stop in allstar donuts, I arrived at my destination. Albeit a little late (9:00), I made it. I figured that since it was an all-day class, they'd cut me a little slack for showin' up late. I thought wrong. I walk in there and this lame-ass skinny mid-40's dude with a Mr. Rogers sweater and braces walks up to me, asks me for my name, then tells me I'm too late and I have to come to the next class in December. Well, FUCK! I plead with him, he explains that his job would be on the line if he let me in. I ask if I'm going to be charged for both this class I missed and the next one that I'll attend (hypothetically) and he says, "no, unfortunately they haven't made that a rule yet." DICK! He looked like a combination of Parker Posey's husband in Best in Show and the bus driver from the adventures of Pete & Pete. So I walked out, fists clenched, and sat on the sidewalk contemplating what the hell I was gonna do with my day now. I opted to call my friend Nick who happened to live af few blocks away. He answered in a groggy just-woken-up voice and told me to come over.
So I did, I slept on his couch for a bit, then we walked down to embarcadero, onto market st. and arrived near powell station. We were about to walk into the shopping mall when I spotted a familiar face slingin' hot dogs on the sidewalk. It was none other than one of my very favorite suicidegals, Dusty. I convinced Nick to buy something from the stand so I'd have an excuse to talk to her. He did, I did a little droppin' of the magic SG name, and she seemed pretty stoked. That was a very cool little meetin' I thought. After that, Nick and I took off, I ran into another internet friend of mine (think myspace) and we talked about doin' a little costume construction for her film she's working' on tonight. I'm considering either that, seeing two gallants at the hemlock, or...um...staying in my room.
So while a very dark shadow had been cast over the day by the morning's unfortunate turn of events, there were some very cool happenings later in the day to compensate. Ok, I'll now go cleanse myself of the day's filth in da showa. You know, water, pirate. That's the best I could do.
I actually woke up on time, before my alarm even had a chance to piss me off. I looked up diirections, got dressed, but then felt compelled to do a little pre-class wank. That took me a good 10 minutes so I didn't actually leave the house 'til 8:00. Ok, so after a little scrambling across streets and a stop in allstar donuts, I arrived at my destination. Albeit a little late (9:00), I made it. I figured that since it was an all-day class, they'd cut me a little slack for showin' up late. I thought wrong. I walk in there and this lame-ass skinny mid-40's dude with a Mr. Rogers sweater and braces walks up to me, asks me for my name, then tells me I'm too late and I have to come to the next class in December. Well, FUCK! I plead with him, he explains that his job would be on the line if he let me in. I ask if I'm going to be charged for both this class I missed and the next one that I'll attend (hypothetically) and he says, "no, unfortunately they haven't made that a rule yet." DICK! He looked like a combination of Parker Posey's husband in Best in Show and the bus driver from the adventures of Pete & Pete. So I walked out, fists clenched, and sat on the sidewalk contemplating what the hell I was gonna do with my day now. I opted to call my friend Nick who happened to live af few blocks away. He answered in a groggy just-woken-up voice and told me to come over.
So I did, I slept on his couch for a bit, then we walked down to embarcadero, onto market st. and arrived near powell station. We were about to walk into the shopping mall when I spotted a familiar face slingin' hot dogs on the sidewalk. It was none other than one of my very favorite suicidegals, Dusty. I convinced Nick to buy something from the stand so I'd have an excuse to talk to her. He did, I did a little droppin' of the magic SG name, and she seemed pretty stoked. That was a very cool little meetin' I thought. After that, Nick and I took off, I ran into another internet friend of mine (think myspace) and we talked about doin' a little costume construction for her film she's working' on tonight. I'm considering either that, seeing two gallants at the hemlock, or...um...staying in my room.
So while a very dark shadow had been cast over the day by the morning's unfortunate turn of events, there were some very cool happenings later in the day to compensate. Ok, I'll now go cleanse myself of the day's filth in da showa. You know, water, pirate. That's the best I could do.
VIEW 19 of 19 COMMENTS
koleeta:
yeah, muni makes SF a small world.
thistle:
so are you an artist or something? where do you go to school?