Sipping my chai this morning, waiting for G to meet me at Raging Sage, glancing up occasionally at people coming through the door, I saw a guy who looked like he was trying very hard to look mysterious and, perhaps, dangerous. Dressed all in black, long black leather coat, black boots, long straight black hair, incongruously lumpy face. He carried a pair of black leather gloves and slapped them in his open palm as he strode up to a girl--also all in black, but in a urban rather than goth way--sitting on one of the sofas, and then playfully (I guess) slapped at her with them.
He may have been trying to channel The Matrix but came off as more Hogan's Heroes than anything.
He slapped the gloves at the girl enough times that a few people paused their conversations to stare at him. Finally he sat next to her, both of them next to me, and proceeded to have a singularly one-sided conversation. I must say the topic was not what I was expecting.
"I had a really bad dream this morning. I dreamed my hair was, was, uh, you know those long plastic things?"
The girl nodded vaguely.
"You know, I mean, like, you know how fishing line is when it gets all tangled? Like, uh, ten-pound test that's been sitting in the water and it's all dirty and fish have been gooing all over it, you know how that feels in your hand?"
How this 90-pound wisp of a bleached blonde would have the slightest notion of how that feels escapes me, but she gamely played along.
"Well, I dreamed that's how my hair felt on the ends and I had to cut it. It was awful."
Luckily, G showed up at that juncture and I missed the rest of Matrix McSlappy's cognitively dissonant discourse. If Keanu fishes, I guess he might talk about his hair that way, but that early in the morning it made my brain hurt.
No comments:
Post a Comment