A few days ago, in a typical buffoon moment, I spilled coffee all over myself. Atypical – to me at least – was that this time the spill ended up covering not only my crotch, but laptop as well. I swore quietly, and looked around to see how many people were extending pity in my direction. Surprisingly, no one had looked up, which was lucky.
Some poor bastard the week before had done the same thing, except that instead of quietly cleaning it up, he decided to yell at his coffee cup for five full minutes as though it had intentionally disobeyed him and could be cowed in cleaning up the mess. Yelling does not help in these situations. You need to be clear, firm and reasonable with the delinquent cup or it won’t learn a thing.
I stood slowly, not wanting to attract attention, and looked over towards the napkin stack near the cash register. Twenty feet. This would be easy. Assuming the bent, crab-like scuttle that is common among people who have just spilled things or their crotch or peed their pants, I hobbled over to the napkins, grabbed a handful, and pressed them against the wet spot.
So sue me, I wasn’t thinking clearly.
Everyone who had seconds before been so good at minding their own business suddenly stopped what they were doing to look at the pervert pleasuring himself with napkins in the corner. I slowed, trying to assume what I judged to be a friendly, I’m-not-a-threat smile and tried to make eye contact, but it didn’t help. They were now staring at my damp upper thigh, which looked surprisingly as though having been caught, I had just wet myself. The napkin-pervert suffers from incontinence!
It was then that I got the pitying looks I had hoped for earlier, but with the alert type of pity people extend to middle aged men who mutter to themselves and read magazines upside-down. I was suddenly a threat. By the time I got back to my table a few of the people seated nearby had decided it was time to go, and I realized that my manic toothy smile was probably not having the desired effect.
I now realize that the guy who yelled at his coffee cup knew exactly what he was doing. Lesson learned.
(new photos up)
Kait
gosh nate..i’ve never seen so many photos of you before…
AND an amusing side note, in my American History class, in a map quiz of the United States, 12 people (of 20 in the class) did not know where Minnesota was…apparently its located somewhere down South by some accounts…
Nate
Well, I suppose that could be true… are they Canadian? And what are they doing taking American history?
Taylor
As always your photographs are beautiful. Regarding your story… It is in fact better to be seen as a raving lunatic than a silent pervert. Lesson Learned.
Fun Fact: Apparently Boston lot (up behind DHMC) is lebtown’s gay man cruising area. I was informed of this several days after spending the afternoon up there. The attraction must have something to do with the proximity to a body water…
The picture of you on the log is hilarious. I half expected to see letters next to your clothes and a list with prices and a link to the JCrew website.
In a plug for architecture school you should read “Towards a New Architecture” by Le Corbusier. Or at least flip through it someday at a bookstore. Your picture of the grain silo’s would fit right in. You’ll understand when you see/read it.
Nate
‘Towards New Architecture’ eh? I’ll give it a look. As for Lebanon’s Gay hotspot, I might just take your word for it. We silent perverts don’t like such social gatherings.
Alejandro
hahaha once people start looking at your crotch you should have said in a sleazy voice and with a big grin ¨want some cock?¨