As I’m walking along my street, I decide to cross over to the sunny side. To do so I have to stop and let by a Cadillac Escalade, the rapper and drug dealer’s truc of choice (on tv anyway). This one sports one of those little pine sented trees hanging from the rearview mirror but it’s striped to the colors of the american flag. The truc stops by me, the passenger’s side window is lowered and a moussed and leather jacketed guy asks me “french or english” and procedes to offer a “Cinéma maison 900 watt Kenwood, ridiculement pas cher, je l’ai gagné à la job pi je m’en débarasse”, said as he points to the back seat where the system lies protected by tinted glasses. “No thanks” and I keep walking up the street, laughing.
Sitting in a restaurant, awaiting my dinner partner, I overhear bits of discussions from the next table. The guy is explaining to his date what a blog is. Pretty good description too, going from the diary thing to the “almost journalist” part and the “some have a lot of readers” comment. Later on, the person I was waiting for mentions blogs herself and “that party they were having at Zeke’s” (!!) and how she had instructed her brother, who has a blog, to go there. (He didn’t)
Sitting, again, in a coffee shop this morning. Writing my comment for Martine’s controversial entry, two guys sitting at a table close by seem to be having a first “patient to shrink” meeting right there. Discussing how he’s “there to help you”, “I’m here to learn about life along with you”, “I don’t have all the answers but feel free to ask questions”, “some shrinks think that they are all mighty but I don’t like that approach, I’m a guy just like you, I happen to have looked for answers you might need”.