I tried on those fucking shoes.
Mother- fuckers are so tight on my feet that they made me cry. Motherfucking shoes. I wanted to throw those motherfuckers across the room, but no, I stuffed them back into the bag Angel gave me and set them aside.
The day once again was uneventful. I got out and headed for the Broadway Starbucks and worked on my screenplay, kicking in the tires and lighting the fires.
I was cooking with gas, punching the ending with more and more action in an effort to wear out the audience with the climax. Climax after climax, like a succession of explosions. Time flew like flies as I worked, head down, keys clicking. Soon, it was time to return to the Box, take my meds, and then head up to the Business Library.
I get there and get online fast, working up a storm because I only have a little time today. I'm meeting up with DJ for a movie by the early afternoon. We've planned to see Tropic Thunder. That's right, this will be my second time. We meet each other inside of the lobby of the theater. We are so on time and early that we kill time at the FORBIDDEN PLANET store next door before watching the movie. Before getting to the theater I purchased a portable from a nearby liquor store and carried it in with me, spiking my coke before the movie. Of course it was a laugh riot for me anyway. It is indeed a really funny movie.
From the theater we went to Barnes and Noble, and I perused the books that I would have bought had I had 1) money and 2) a place to keep them. Books are a commodity when you are homeless. The only place that you can get them and use them are from the library. There, when you're done, you can give them back. You can't rightly keep a multi-volume library in your backpack. Here, in Barnes and Noble, you have the opportunity to build your own library. That is a wonderful thing. I had a pretty decent one that i was proud of when I had my apartment. I vow to one day have another to equal or top that one.
DJ offers dinner, and, well...me being a card carrying hobo, how could I decline? Besides, dinner with DJ is always fun. If it wasn't I would have had something to do. And it indeed was fun. He is uniquely humorous and should make a movie himself. He could probably outdo Ben Stiller.
We go through our meal and I hit up a beer to lighten the heavy buzz that the coke and vodka left in my head. I didn't finish my drink though. I left half of it in the theater in the cup of coke. It was pretty potent anyway, being much more vodka than coke. I used the beer like a pilot would an airbrake, slowing down my decline. I was prepared to crash land from the portable, but not tonight. I was pretty certain that one beer would do it, and it did. DJ and I soon left and headed across town where we split up at Astor Place.
I returned to the Box, which was alive as usual with the antics of my dormmates, but I was too slapped around in the head to deal with them. I tried to get online, but could not focus to save my life. Instead I floundered and sputtered out. I crawled into bed and closed my eyes, and like some rapacious beast, sleep struck me hard.Hobobob
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