what comfort

2005-06-17 - 8:50 a.m.

Last night's dinner music: pan flute versions of favorite Broadway show tunes. Or at least what may have once been someone's favorites before hearing horribly rendered pan flute versions of same.

Mid-way through my appetizer, a man entered the restaurant and sat behind me. His voice can only be described as gruff. He appeared to be a regular there and seemed to thrill to harassing the waitress that she didn't know every in and out of his When Harry Met Sally style picky ordering. Clearly he feels superior through this display. He horked down his appetizer, meal and diet coke so quickly that I was only half through my entree when I heard the unholy belch of the damned that announced he was finished and ready for the check. What a charming dinner partner.

Afterwards I had some time to kill before my movie showtime so wandered through my old health food store. The one that always had nifty stuff, but outrageous prices. I picked up an endangered species chocolate bar (dark chocolate with espresso beans amen) and headed off to the theater. Their "and now for our feature presentation" clip features a 60s style technicolor nightmare, but they show cool films in an area where there's free parking, so I'm a big fan. Saw Crash, which was well worth it. I like movies that can disturb me that much. Leaving the theater I found that the weather had improved so much that I actually got chilled walking to my car.

At home I indulged in a few repeat listens of Fake Plastic Trees before heading off to bed to listen to Selected Shorts. Completing the comfort indulgence were my ridiculously cozy sheets, candlelight, way too much perfume and falling asleep to John Wesley. Whatever it takes.

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