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Journal of No. 118


February 1st, 2005

strange encounters @ 01:33 pm

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Going back to Saturday in the IKEA lot. We've stowed our new possessions and I start backing out. I see the car opposite me also start to back out. I stop and keep an eye on him. He's not stopping. Dear God, he's not looking where he's going. I lay on the horn solidly for about three seconds as his car slowly and inevitably smacks mine at about 1 mph. Ngah! Given aaronjv's story, I was tempted to demand $500 for the invisible blemish on my car. But instead I let Mr. Asian driver get away with merely a dent in stereotype karma.

Today, I'm going on my lunch walk, and up ahead on the sidewalk is a man kneeling on a prayer rug towards Mecca (my physics brain calculated that his facing was pretty accurate, assuming a great circle route). He's next to a big grey van with dusty windows. As I pass him by, I get the heebie-jeebies. Inside my cranium, Mr. Liberal braincell starts to war with Mr. Mistrustful-of-Muslims-with-large-anonymous-vans-indulging-in-open-displays-of-religious-fervor-within-sight-of-a-major-airport braincell. When I get back around the block, he's on his feet putting his rug away in the van. Since I idiotically left my paycheck in my office, I went out again to the bank and found him once more praying on the sidewalk.
So if a radiological bomb goes off at LAX today, I just want to leave this message on the internet so that you can all blame me for not stopping it.
 
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Journal of No. 118