Felt better this morning. Two Imodium seemed to have solidified the situation.
Stopped at a PetroCanada being run by two teenagers. Full serve, one came out to fill the tank while the other ran the shop. As the first one was cleaning my windshield, he noticed that the pump wasn’t working, despite the fact that he’d stuck the nozzle in my tank and set the trigger. “Hey,” he barked at the kid behind the counter, “turn on the gas, ya homo.”
“Homo” is one of those words that I wish I could use more, like “retard.” Unfortunately, I know that these words demean two already vulnerable groups of people, so I feel guilty whenever I use them. I don’t mean to demean, I just like the sound of the words. Or maybe I like the memory of using them when I was young, and the way they sounded funny, the comeraderie of teasing friends, before I realized that words could hurt people.
Got into Saskatoon and waited at the university until I got hold of Candace. Relaxed at her place for a bit and then we went for a walk to the grocery store before it closed. We watched a really depressing (and reeeeeeally long) movie, during which I realized that I was still sick. Seems that with one exit being too firm for an exit, the other would have to do. Candace went to bed and I called Ralph on the big white phone.
Am I the only one who feels awesome after a good charf? And funny, just writing about vomit seems to bring the odour to my nose. Ewwww.
Recent Comments