Fortunately, when it came to the showdown, Z blew ‘em out of the water. They saw the purple hair, the back tattoo peeking out of her shirt, the car with a different colored bumper and thought she wasn’t prepared to go the distance.
But she was. We asked the Animal Services officer to presided over the auction, “that was exciting, right?” And she couldn’t help but nod and grin sheepishly.
Man, I really want a dog now.
After emerging from the place victorious, we had ourselves a celebratory brunch at Roscoe’s House of Chick’n & Waffles. And by god, it was the best food I’d had there in years. The waffle was so light, so tasty, the chicken, succulent as advertised, and it tasted like they’d added a little new something to the recipe, a new seasoning, it was so good we were forced to stop talking and just “Mmmm” to each other.
Oh, and then we did a photo shoot.
Her apartment? F.U.C.K.I.N.G. W.I.L.D. Super high ceilings meant much more room for her fresh paintings, bookshelves were filled with comics, manga, Russian books, sci-fi novels, the works of the Great Palahniuk, there were antiquated medical gear pegged on the wall, huge velvet drapes covered floor to high high high ceiling windows, the place was crack for the eyes. And her roommate wasn’t half bad, neither.
But there was a cat.
Good times, good conversation and stories to fill days of posts.
Happy monday.