monday, september 20, 1999


Have I mentioned yet how cool I think this whole new quarter thing is? I know they've been out for a while, but it takes me a little while to catch up.

Anyway, I've had a hard time adjusting to the new paper money. I don't like those new $20s at all. The quarters are okay, though, because they're fun, and they will be going back to the standard issue quarter in, well, nine years, after the whole state thing is over.

But I've started my little collection, just like half of America, I'm sure. The first quarter I find from each state goes into my little piggy bank. I put a bicentennial one in there just for fun.


So I went out with Lynne, Jan, and Lynne's sort-of-boyfriend Ed on Friday night. We were tired of the same old two places that all the law students go, and a new hotel opened up just off the square in town, so we decided to check it out, just stop in and have a drink.

The bar itself wasn't that big, eight or ten seats around it and maybe three tables with two chairs apiece. There was another group of three at one end, so we sat around the other end corner of the bar and ordered our drinks from the bartender, who promptly served us.

Then he stood in front of us for the next twenty minutes and told us the story of his best friend's wedding and how he and his buddies took a half-dozen bottles of liquor and a case of beer on the train to Atlantic City the night before even though his girlfriend made him promise not to get the groom drunk and they came back all hung over and the groom wanted to wear his sunglasses in the church and his girlfriend reamed him all the way home from the wedding.

It was horrifying. This was not a conversation. This was him with a captive audience. The four of us never got a word in edgewise, and we certainly were never given the opportunity to have a private conversation. It was twice as bad because the subject matter was slightly inappropriate. It wasn't like he was telling us something halfway interesting, about the time he climbed Everest or something.

Needless to say, we left after one round and walked to the bar with all the law students. Ed was so mortified at this guy that he called the manager of the hotel, which I think was smart. This guy is driving away business, because we are certainly not going back, and we'll be warning people away from it. We didn't really want to get him fired, and the manager told Ed he wouldn't take that step yet, because the drinks were good and the bar looked very nice and clean, but that guy needs to learn that the bartender's job is to listen and speak only when spoken to, not to share drunken weekend wedding stories.


I can't believe I forgot to tell you about the awful dinner I almost had last week.

I was standing in the middle of my kitchen, doing the standard routine of opening the refrigerator, closing the refrigerator, opening the freezer, closing the freezer, opening the cupboards, closing the cupboards, then starting it all over again, trying to find something for dinner that didn't involve cereal.

A box of pasta caught my eye, sitting next to a lovely jar of sauce. Perfect. I always cook up the whole thing and dump in the whole jar, only because I like reheated pasta almost better than the first time around.

Throw the pasta in the water, boil boil boil, heat up the sauce, everything looks delicious.

I go to pour the pasta in the strainer in the sink and I'm doing it nice and slowly because I tend to rush it and splash water all over the place. As I'm watching it pour in, I notice... something... pour out with the water. Then it happens again.

I put the pot down and stare at the surface of the water. There are another five or six things floating in it. They're small, brown, transparent, and quite clearly dead.

But they weren't always dead. They used to be alive.

Flour bugs. I had cooked up some hearty and delicious flour bugs along with my pasta.

I'm so glad I took my time pouring off the water, because once I dumped in the sauce, I never would have noticed them. I checked my other box of pasta. Yep, there they are, wriggling around in the dust at the bottom of the box.

And I almost ate them.

Surprise! I lost my appetite. Went without dinner that night, but that was fine with me.

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