I wrote these on a napkin while at work today.

I come here and there's a church in the lobby...Well, the remnants of a church. Some young couple (who obviously run it) and their kids are standing around deciding how to take things down. Why is there a church in the lobby? Why is this the first time I've seen or heard of this. One of the older kids is teasing his little sister. I'm not awake enough to be dealing with this, especially not on a Sunday morning. Velvet Underground is playing in my head.

The guy who runs the nail salon next to us looks like an Asian version of one of those Italian gio-sleazeballs with his open shirt, silver bracelets, and fancy cell phone. He drives a shiny, black Escalade with fancy rims and perpetuates the stereotype that Asians can't drive by running over the curb in his fancy car. It is not even 11:30 AM yet and I've been asked if Iron Man is playing here. I don't want to be here and I certainly don't want to be awake on a Sunday morning.

I'm tired. My back hurts, my stomach hurts, and my head does as well. That stupid Escalade is right dead center in my field of vision. Earlier the nail salon man walked past screeching a tuneless "la la la" and banging on my counter as he passed. Some creepy-looking church-y dude (who looked like a cross between Tom Waits and young Santa Claus) just bought six tickets for Expelled...Ew. Something that has been bothering me thus far: Why do people pay with credit cards for a $7.50 ticket?!