It has come to light that just about every guy I know, contrary to popular belief, has quite a "thing" for nerdy girls. Being a drive through fast food cashier, I see hundreds of people a day whizzing past my window. There are at least five regulars that come through whom I've collectively labeled my 'hot nerd girls'. Ruben has this ongoing thing where he'll see some slender bookish lady, and he'll turn to me and say "I just want her to say 'Your library books are overdue, you naughty, naughty boy!'"

Or, as the guy who stands next to me at work taking orders says as he checks out customers through my window: "Dude, I bet there's some freak in that geek!"



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I'm still holding out for my dream girl: violet-eyed albino hippie chick who smells like incense, has a paisley dress peeking out from under her lab coat, who has white skin and pale yellow dredlocks that have to be held back with a tie-dyed scarf while her purple eyes peer through a microscope at squiggly bits, while she scratches notes without looking at the pad, and emits the occasional "Hmm!"

This mental image (and horrendous run-on sentence) is, of course, subject to change at a moment's whim. God, I'm bored. I need something to photograph.

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Oh! I almost forgot! Saturday night was the soft open for the L&V under the new ownership. Ruben and I were customers number 3 and 4, respectively. The new owner (formerly frequent patron) was absolutely adorable as he scrambled and bumbled about, wings still wet as a bartender. He had forgotten how the beer tap installers showed him how to pour a glass of beer, and kept having to run back and forth to the sink to pour out the overflowing foam. Another frequent patron had to go behind the bar with him and show him how to do it properly, and how to wedge the orange slices over the rim of the glass.




It was good to be back. There's no place like home.