I refuse to admit that it was a day to be reckoned with.
Ok, I lied.
The issues were mild for a few hours.
Think that was bad?
Just wait a few minutes.
It was like seeing the hurricane slowly turning into my life, and hitting landfall, aka Bananawolf, about 430pm.
A magnitude 4.
Ok a 5.
At that point, all I could do is laugh.
It was way too ridiculous to do anything else.
Giggling my way to the print center, the laughter increasing with every step, until….
It is 5pm. Do you know where the nearest bar is?
When I walked in, oh no!
He was still talking about Saturday afternoon.
A weekend to be remembered.
A gathering of the loyal patrons, acting out, after the last weekend of summer.
Sometimes I wonder: Can anyone have as much fun as a crowd of regulars at a neighborhood bar on a Monday night?
My condolences to those who have never experienced that bonding.
Until tomorrow, when Harvey or Irma or Jose or whoever churns up the Atlantic, to New Jersey, to whip it. Whip it good…..