Sunday December 16 2012


☼ ○ ▬

Trapped in an oval-shaped system of offices – in the center of the building, the foyer. This place is nostalgic and haunting – built in the middle of a forest. Outside, agents are scheming to capture me. I attempt various plans of escape, one where I’m flapping my arms above the ground over a cascading river – then hop atop the roofs of cars.

▬ ○ ☼

Alarm goes off at 11:35 a.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s slow for business.

Lentil Spread on a Bagel with Tomato and Mustard. Tortilla Chips with Avocado and Peach Salsa.

It’s been a few weeks since rain has fallen, and as soon as one droplet touches the ground the phones start ringing off the hook. Starting from five o’clock and on it’s non-stop deliveries. Everybody orders at once. I’ve never truly understood the correlation between the weather and one’s appetite. For some reason whenever there’s even a slight shift in the air people lose motivation to prepare their own dinner.

Bosc Pear.

The night continues. And I’m given a surprise visit by Margot, but not so much a surprise as we had been corresponding today via text. She shows up with a story to share that happened to her the previous night that involves meeting a guy named Taylor who is Elliott’s cousin, and who happens to be cousins with her girlfriend’s husband-to-be. Because I’ve hung out with Taylor a few times in the past, he mentioned that he knows me. It’s one of those small world moments. But the real reason she shares this story with me is because the blog was mentioned. I guess Taylor had said, “Oh Robert with the blog?” Margot felt embarrassed because of all the stuff I’ve written about her and such. She’s worried guys will misperceive who she is and judge her based on what they read, that is if they even read it. At this point it’s not like all of Virginia Beach reads the blog, just friends of friends maybe. But that’s as far as the degree goes.


She rides around with me on a few deliveries. She mentions how she got her hair done different and makes some kind of playful smart remark about how I didn’t notice.

Me: “Sorry it’s dark in here and I’m driving.”

At a stoplight I pause and take notice. It’s light brown with a purple shade on one side.

Me: “Oh that’s nice. It looks good.”


There was already an understanding that we shouldn’t be hanging out or talking in any way really. I don’t know why today was an exception. I guess when you’re reminded of somebody it’s hard to resist telling them.

Fried Shrimp with Broccoli, Carrots, Onions, and Rice in Garlic Sauce.

Back home.

It’s still raining lightly outside but it doesn’t stop me from going for a jog. I really needed this – my legs marching across the wet asphalt – my body moving rhythmically – the sound of water whooshing through the trees.


Inside the house, Skippy, Kevin, and a friend of theirs, Elysa, are here attempting to play Jenga but Kevin, being his usual klutzy self, repeatedly accidently knocks the tower down after three moves. While I was out running this girl Elysa caught wind that I was in Mae for a few years. Apparently she was a major fan in high school. She also plays a little piano as well as violin. Diddling on the piano and trying to figure out some of the songs I used to play over and over again on tour.

A bowl of Cheerios with Brown Sugar and Milk.

Sleep 4 a.m.

[i] Source unknown.

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