Ohhh-kayyyy

I hate blogs. But after the "Bubble Man" experience of July '09, Mel has been urging me to jot down random stories (the random, silly stuff that I don't write in my journal), claiming that I'll be glad to have these tidbits later. Maybe I will. Or maybe i'll look back and be horrified that I found them hilarious at one point in time. Regardless, Mel has a strange power over me, like when Jafar controls the Sultan with his cobra staff. If she told me to touch my finger to the point of a spinning wheel, I would. Mel, you are an evil sorceress and wicked stepmother.

So here we go. What better way to begin a nonsensical blog then by highlighting the chronicles of "Melerie Reunion: Day 1":

Yesterday evening, Mel and I had a run-in with the two oldest ladies that I've ever seen. They looked like this, but OLDER:

We parked Mel's rental car in a lot a few blocks from my apartment. As we're unloading her luggage, the ladies (who I'm aptly naming Gertie and Sylvia) rolled by in a maroon Beretta, claiming to own the parking lot and ask us why we parked there. As they slowly rolled away, Sylvia stared at Mel's license plate and cooed through her thick smoker's voice, "0-0-5-8. Ohhh-kayyyy." Mel and I giggled at the nonsense that had just unfolded and concluded that the ladies definitely didn't own the parking lot, but they were bored and decided to take a break from drinking gin and smoking clove cigarettes to drive around and mess with innocent 26-year-olds. I asked Mel if she thinks she and I will do that together in about 60 years.

"Duh" was all she said as we watched Sylvia slowly peel out of the parking lot and drive down the middle of two lanes down 21st Street.

Other events:

A scary Italian waiter called Mel "tiny and beautiful" and then challenged her to an arm wrestling match.

An 80-year-old man in the park told me I remind him of a cat. I told him I hate cats. He roared laughter like a crazy person in the otherwise calm, quiet park.