Honking

Last night was a big one, causing me to sleep in, get confused into thinking I work at five, eating almond butter for breakfast, and running half way to work only to realize I'm 25 minutes early.  In the hubbub, or the resulting sit on the grass to kill time, I lost my key card and a new one costs $21.  21 for an 18 cent card!  I asked the woman behind the desk why, and she said, "It's just a fee."  I thought badly of her on my way to the sauna.

It was raining out.

Then, thinking my card might be in the grass where I sat in the morning, I walked over there (in the rain) and just as I was leaving the parking lot, I heard honking, the kind that wants to get someone's attention.  And although I hate it -- because I can't see into the car, and because honking is the human equivalent of shouting profanities, I wouldn't have turned, but because I am human, I turned and saw tinted windows, and those blue headlights you see on gangster's cars.  It was none other than the car of Mar Puccini, with Wa inside.....

.....

...I asked for some poutine from the girl at the clubhouse, and she thought I said poontang and slapped me in the face.