Sunday, November 02, 2003
Locals
After buying a cup of coffee and a "Honey Bun" (a delicious 35 cent processed Southern snack) from a Yarmulke-toting clerk at the local corner store, I was treated to the following scene at the establishment's outdoor seating area:
My reportedly heroin-addicted neighbor - complete with abundant tattoos, multiple piercings and child - discussing his days touring with Marilyn Manson and his wavering faith in the Mormon Church with a jittery, acid-casualty from Visalia, CA, who was chain smoking and speaking too loudly at close range, but looking smashing in his TALIT AND YARMULKE (for the Goy readers those are the shawl-like covering and skull-cap, respectively, that bar-mitzvahed Jews wear to synagogue - nobody wears them to get coffee on a Sunday).
I moved to the twighlight zone.
My reportedly heroin-addicted neighbor - complete with abundant tattoos, multiple piercings and child - discussing his days touring with Marilyn Manson and his wavering faith in the Mormon Church with a jittery, acid-casualty from Visalia, CA, who was chain smoking and speaking too loudly at close range, but looking smashing in his TALIT AND YARMULKE (for the Goy readers those are the shawl-like covering and skull-cap, respectively, that bar-mitzvahed Jews wear to synagogue - nobody wears them to get coffee on a Sunday).
I moved to the twighlight zone.
