I did maybe a half hour or 45 minutes practice last night, packed some Ebay things, then drank probably too much watery beer and went to sleep, woke up around 2:30.
On the radio I'm hearing that "they" have followed my advice. Go ahead and commit to sending Abrams tanks to Ukraine, thus making the Germans feel OK about sending their tanks. We'll have to make a good show of being dead serious about this, but it's the German tanks that will do the real work.
I got 14 things packed including one really big one, and ended up with a very loaded-up bike. Possibly a record load. Boxes stacked high on the trailer and Whole Foods bags with smaller things hanging off of each handlebar. I left here at about 5:30, and took my time, no hurrying, not with a load like that.
The post office was no problem and I saw my #1 fan, a Black guy with a big motorcycle there, but he didn't say Hi or anything. The last time I saw him I said I was changing to flute, so I guess I've fallen pretty far in his mind. Oh, well, can't please 'em all. This is also why I'm going to hang onto my fancy-schmancy Wayne Bergeron model trumpet for at least another year, because I *can* make some money with that thing.
Next was FedEx, but I had a bright idea. I'd stop first at H Mart, and dash in like I "gotta use the befroom" but instead buy a bottle of Slow Village makgeolli and another little bottle of the "yoghurt flavored vodka" that's only $1.99. I had $7 on me and as the Slow Village stuff is 3.99, I'd have it covered no problem.
Well, problems... It turns out I'd misread the tag and the vodka stuff was something like 4.99 and I'd not noticed it the other day because I'd bought a bunch of stuff and never kept or checked my receipt. So after I price checked and one of the checkout ladies did, it was finally made clear to me that what I'd seen was a tag for something else. So I just got the makgeolli.
I dropped off the FedEx stuff and made my way back, not finding much in the way of packing materials, and got back here, put things away, and got the trailer and step-stool and "getter stick" and went and checked the medical place. I didn't find anything to sell but found some nice packing stuff so i it was well worth it.
Then I went to the chicken truck and got fries, just fries because with chicken on top it's more than I can eat, I told the kid, and that was $5 because I insisted on tipping.
I got back here and ate my fries with some Parmesan cheese and Kewpie mayo on top, a meal I'd have to get by 5 or 6 hours on.
Then it was, put things that are listed away, find things that had sold, clean the bathroom and office, neaten up an area of the loft that had gotten messy, and when it was about time for Ken to come by, start wondering about all the yelling and screaming over on Rogers Avenue. Some gal was throwing a real fit. I was just finished getting dressed to go out and check and get the bike out, when Ken came by. I was worried the crazy zombess had jumped in front of his car or something and it'd be up to me to sort things out.
But just then Ken was there in his wife's super-sneaky Toyota that barely whispers. We took a bunch of things and packing boxes in, played with a couple of high voltage power supplies, he wrote me my check, and we sat and talked about tons of things from Ukraine to how I'm going to time going back to Hawaii.
Ken took off just before midnight and then I had an hour or so to sort though the stuff he'd brought, take a couple of things apart, etc. It was a bit past 1AM when I took the box of junk out for the bums, and noticed a bum with his car, waiting around for what I don't know. Oops. I set the box down right in front of here and got back in here and buttoned everything up.
The screaming zombess had run out of energy or something and was quiet now. Who cleans their car and messes around with it a ton of ways at 1AM? Zombies/bums/scumsuckers/druggies, that's who.
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