Saturday, September 3, 2016

Guilt Fees

Can there be a Not Drinking tip that's implied if you get nothing at the bar? I'm writing this on the train full of guac and chips. Fine chips but guilt chips for not ordering alcohol but wanting to be out with my new cast. They were the cheapest appetizer and still eight dollars. I tipped 1.50. I would have rather had no after midnight calories and given the waitress a five spot. I used to get cherry Diet Cokes before caffeine started making me into a wind-up hummingbird.

I walked a ton today. Two and from two theatres, the grocery store, around the neighborhood. Everyone is out enjoying these last summer moments.

Last night I decided to see the musical show I've been cast as an understudy on. It was weirdly diagonal from home, so taking a train is barely worth it. I shrugged and trekked on foot. Down Halstead I listened to The Mountain Goats and was reminded of Oh Yeah That Place Why Don't I Come to This Neighborhood More? Brown rust, broken ATM machine, the jazz club, the teeny prairie homes.

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