Monday, April 3, 2017

Dear Sweetie Pie: 3.9.03

Not much new on the street.  I still see Mordecai, White Guy With Dreadlocks, and Sniffy The Communist.  Bicycle Putz has dropped out of sight for now.  Blondie the massage therapist doesn't show up any more.  And remember the barrista who sprayed whip cream all over her mouth while looking at me?  She got fired.

However Sniffy The Communist is sticking around.  I saw him last Sunday on his bicycle going through the intersection of these two streets, Hutchison and Savannah.  And although four doors up from where my cousin lives, I'm trying not to read too much into that.  Sniff could simply live around there and I could be wrong about him.  He could be as innocent as a newborn baby, not involved with any Fifth Column BS.  But that's hard to believe after what happened the next day.  Every time I turned around, there he was.


Monday (03/03/03) I'm walking down the street when I see him standing in an apartment building doorway.  Next I'm down at The Dragon Weir and he comes in and sits at the counter next to me, with a copy of 'Das Kapital' no less.  Poor Sniffy.  He must have some form of Tourette's syndrome because whenever I stared at him his face went wild with tics - his eyebrow got all twitchy, then his nose, then corner of his mouth, then his chin.  This continued as long as I was staring.  As soon as I lookd away the tics stop.  I saw this in my peripheral.  But as soon as I turned back and stared at him some more he started twitching again.  I look away the twitching stopped.  I look at him again the twitching resumed.  Back and forth I keep this up until I finish my mocha.  

Then I leave.  And this isn't the first time this has happened either.

So what's the Sniff meister up to?  Is he trying to get me to scream, "Stop using illegal software to read my Emails to Sweetie Pie?"  If he thinks I'm going to say something to him about it, he's going to be twitching for a long long time.

Anyway that's life in Squirrel Hill, my own little Istanbul.  

And I still have a bug up my ass about The Clintons and it's called Mothra.  Talk to you later.

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