Thursday, December 23, 2004


Dear Columbia,
Please point me in the direction of a coffee shop that is not seem like it is run by middle aged women. Show me a place where I can get a cup of black coffee and no one will look at me like I'm weird. Lead me to an establishment where I can sit and not be interrupted by loud people. Guide me to a place where the waitress knows my name, and knows exactly the right time to refill my cup. But until that blessed day comes, I will be forced to make my own coffee and sit in the flat and drink it. Please Columbia, I want to feel trendy. You're not helping. For Godsakes, I dressed like I was Al Pacino from that 70's movie about the tattletale cop, and no one said anything. Do I need to shout out my hatred for gun freedom? Something's gotta get me noticed around here.

But no.

I think I'll buy a Dale Earndhart hat and assimilate. Take that corporate America!

-Love, ed.

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