These things happen, no, they really do.
I was running a redheaded Capricorn’s cat to the vet to get an insulin shot. She’s out of town, and her cat [“My \\man\\”> needed a daytime dose. Then I stopped off for a quick dip in a pool, ran into a Virgo, and she sent me to the store for cigarettes and a coke. So there I was, a few hours before flying off for business, dripping wet, stinking of chlorine, pulling soggy dollar bills out of my pocket in hopes that I could earn that Virgo’s good graces and catch a ride to the airport. Sort of weird, to be walking down Riverside, barefoot & dripping, in the spring sun.
Nice try. I still had to cab it over to the airport. When I got here, though, I tried something new: I walked from the terminal to the hotel. No shuttle bus, no ride, just my feet. Sort of weird, in this day and age, to be car less, but I liked it, for a change.
On the plane, it was a little weird, I was sitting across from a fierier, and the book I was reading, my airplane diversion was a book called \\Cross Dressing\\ by Bill Fitzhugh. Have to give that book a double thumbs up. It’s about a soulless guy who’s forced by circumstances to assume the role of Catholic priest, hence the title. But just having that title earned me a few funny looks.
