5.25.2004

last night bees & i went up to erin's house, as devin is moving in with her and we had a ton of leftover beer from the weekend. and, as we all know, moving = beer.

erin lives in a colorful neighborhood, and i just love it: the street is always lively, we know most of her neighbors, everyone is always outside, & there is a firehouse at the end of the block - woo WOO! i love so much to sit on her porch and just watch life unfold.

as the evening progressed there was really a lot more beer involved than moving, as one might expect, and the conversation just kept getting more & more inappropriate, but also a hell of a lot funnier. we started talking about all the interesting characters in her neighborhood, like the guy she discovered sleeping on her neighbor's porch because she heard snoring when she was leaving for the gym very early one morning or the cuban who lives down the block who waits for her to walk her dog & always says all he wants is to drink red wine with her. i got news for you, pedro, ain't gonna be no wine drinkin' any time soon.

my favorite character, though, is curtis. curtis is the biological father of a guy who we're pretty sure deals on the block. i can't remember his name, but he's young & funny and we share a drink every now & then. his perspectives on prison were quite enlightening. anyway, his dad, curtis, is always polite and wants to do things for us in exchange for a little money or a cigarette or a beer.

for a good while curtis was sleeping in an old 1970s limo that belonged to his aforementioned son. the limo was parked in front of erin's house for a very long time, and so we made good friends with curtis - hell, he was a neighbor! in fact, we once bought a bunch of porn from curtis out of the backseat. my current roommates have no idea it's in the living room, or they totally would have hidden it before karl rove came over on saturday. (oops, they know now!)

anyway, i haven't seen curtis yet this year, so i asked what was up. turns out that erin gave him a few dollars last week to have his "prescription" filled, and in return he SLIPPED HER A BOX OF HOT BISCOTTI.

i misheard her, though, and you can imagine what i thought she meant. box. slipped. hot. biscotti. i about dropped my pierrie right then and there.

"he gave you what?! you did what?!"

right then, bees piped up.
"no, you dork. hot. eh-stolen!"

whew. hot biscotti is better than some hot biscotti, if you know what i mean...