Sex with the Riker Twins; Around and Back; A German Dinner

Yesterday morning, the temp was 12. Which is frigid for this region. We're just not accustomed to such temps. So it really nips. On my way to work, I passed an electronic sign that said -11, it took me a moment to figure out it meant Celsius.

Last night, I had trouble sleeping. During most of the week, I had had little trouble dozing off. So last night, I must have been wired. I resorted to some over the counter PM pills, and they worked. Worked too well, in fact. This morning I got up at 5 to feed the felines, then went back to bed. Woke again about 10, got up and zipped around the web for an hour or so. But instead of going to lunch, I went back to bed and woke around 2.

By the way, this was the third time this week that I've a dream about having sex with the Riker twins, seen on "The Amazing Race." It was more than just a particular act, but more of a sharing of sexual identities. As though I had merged with one of the twins. I had a sense of being with one of the twins, but conscious of my own identity, but also capable of observing what I was doing from the outside. Visit my shrine to Derek and Drew at http://www2.netdoor.com/~rainhawk/riker/riker.html

Next stop was the post office. Three bills and a flyer for something I've forgotten.

On to Walgreens to pick up my prescription for Buspirone, a generic form of Buspar, an antianxiety, antidepressant that I take twice a day along with my once-a-day dosage of Celexa, another antidepressant. (This combination has worked well, but I have to be careful of stress. If I'm too stressed or too fatigued, I become downright grumpy. And will wind up in tears at the least thing.)

The clerk found my package, but said the insurance company would not approve payment until they contacted the doctor. SAY WHAT! This is weird, because it was a refill, so why didn't someone say something when I started taking it six months ago! I asked the clerk how much it would cost without the insurance, and she named a three-digit figure. JESUS H. CHRIST!

A number of totally degenerate thoughts crossed my mind. I don't remember the details, but most had something to do with the mother of the CEO of the insurance company and farm animals.

Onward. I pointed my very dirty little red card toward the mall and off I went. Actually, it was not the mall I wanted. But the WalMart across the street. But to get to it, you have to use County Line which is the busiest street in the state. And most of the drivers are fucking idiots.

When I finally reached the parking lot, I noticed a dark blue car in one of the spaces that looked like it had been hit by a garbage truck. Part of the front end was still attached, but the rest was hanging on and resting on the pavement. I couldn't see how someone could have driven it there in that condition.

Scurring around the store, I picked up mucho cans of cat food, paper towels, cat litter and two cartons of coke. Passing a woman with a cart filled with two hugh bags of dry cat food, several containers of litter and lots and lots of cans, I commented that she must be a serious cat person, then added that I had five. She replied that she had nine!

Wheeling my buggy with utter disregard for life or limb, I dashed to the check out line. Slung the items on the belt. Whipped out my wallet. Flipped it open. BUT the card I'd used earlier was gone! Vanished! Disappeared! Lost! No more!

My brain went into rewind mode, as I tried to remember every place I'd been. Luckily, I was able to use another card to pay. I raced for the car, popped the trunk and plopped the bags in. Then turned around and retraced my steps and stops. But to no avail and no card. Shit!

When I returned home, I called the card company and cancelled the account. I asked what the last purchase was, and the rep named the deli from a couple of hours before. But it was for a different amount, one a couple of dollars more. Very strange.

I've given up trying to unravel what happened. An alternate universe? A shift in the space time continuum?

After a wait of 20 minutes or so, we were escorted to a table in the far back. The far, far back. No doubt, someone had heard me talking. Thankfully the menu was still in English. But I did notice a couple of comments along the lines of "You will order this dish! And you will enjoy it! We know where your relatives in Bavaria live!"

I wondered if our server would be named Fritz or Otto. The server appeared but forgot to tells us who she was. Usually, the server writes the name on the paper tablecloth. After her third or fourth visit, I told her she had not introduced herself. She wrote her name, then I introduced my friend and myself and said, "and we're your customers."

By now, the neurons in my brain were running amok. I said the music sounded like Wagner. "Tannahuser." "I know what they should play - 'Ride of the Valkyries'." "I can only think of it in terms of 'Apocalypse Now'." "I tell you what else they should do is to spray a few drop of napalm into the air system, so you could have that 'smell of napalm in the morning' as it plays." By now my friend had moved to the other side of the table and was frantically looking for a large polo mallet to whack me over the head with.

We talked about the Golden Globes and Joan Rivers' fashion comments. He said Joan had had a few chin tucks. My quick reply was to ask it he'd heard the joke about the Duchess of Windsor. "One more face lift, and she'll have a mustache."

After dinner, we sauntered over to Barnes and Noble. He'd given me a gift card for Christmas, but I'd not used it. I had a couple of things in mind, so it didn't take long to make my decision. At the check out counter, I gave the clerk the gift card, and she asked for my discount card. I handed it over, and she immediately held up a silver crucifix. Then I realized it was for "Books A Million."

PAX!