I don't know how that's relevant.
Especially when you can just read the post's tag.
Isaac had a gun pulled on him Tuesday night. He stepped outside to smoke a quick cigarette, and six guys in masks emerged from the shadows and pulled a gun on him. Isaac stood there smoking his cigarette, rolled his eyes. They demanded his car keys, and he handed them over to them. Then they handed them back, told him he had do drive them somewhere. He said they could take his car, but he wasn't going to drive them anywhere. The masked man in the gun asked, "Do you want to get shot?" to which Isaac replied, "Do you want to shoot me?" They forced him into his apartment, and as they were ascending the steps, Isaac shouted for his roommate to call the cops. The thugs panicked, tossed him around a bit in the stairwell, took his phone and cigarettes and dashed out of there. The police showed up, searched the area, rounded up three suspects. The cops took him to Wal-Greens where the suspects were waiting to be identified, but Isaac couldn't identify them: these men weren't wearing masks, but they had been during the jump.
"Not to sound racist," I said, "but were they black?"
Isaac laughed. "They all were. Except for one."
It was a question not of stereotypes but demographic probabilities.
Equally feasible was the gang being all white.
(there's a lot of white trash in Cheviot)
On Wednesday I got a text from the Wisconsinite: "Watcha doin?"'
Working, of course, I told her. She knows I work all mornings.
She said, "I NEED coffee! Can you help?!"
I told her that if she was downtown she certainly could.
I said it in a teasing manner, of course she was in 15 hours away.
I go on break, sit in the office for a bit, then get a text: "Is this Mumford & Sons?"
I could hear it over Pandora. Philip Phillips, the American Idol guy.
I almost texted her, "No, it's Philip Phillips," then it hit me.
I ducked out of the office and into the cafe, gave a look around.
And there she was!
It was so good to see her, to catch up. It really made my day. She stopped into see me on Thursday as well, before heading off to the Missionary Convention. I hadn't seen her in, geez, a year and a month, and didn't expect to see her for another year at the least. And thinking about it today, it really does confirm that she's a true friend. Not that I ever doubted it, of course. But there are friends you grow apart from and don't talk to anymore, and then you just fade out of each other's lives, and the friendship can be interpreted as circumstantial. But then there are friends you don't see for a year, or two years, or more, and they make the effort to see you face-to-face, to hear your voice, to find out how you're doing with genuine interest. Those are the best kinds of friendships, and I have few of them. Thankfully there are those, like Mandy K., who--despite the distance--will always love me, and never forget me; and when our paths cross again, there's reunion, a rekindling. Two such friends will be here in December, Rob and Mandy, and I look forward to seeing both of them SO much.
Now, regarding Philip Phillips.
He has a new song, I don't know the name, but it's pretty good.
I like it. Even John admitted the same, albeit sheepishly.
And the song really does have a Mumford & Sons feel to it.
I looked it up: it's called "Home."
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