|
|
|
Lately, my just-about-favorite
thing is to play 45s on an old gramophone in public
places, so all week long a little voice
inside has been nudging me to try
outside the Asteroid Cafe, situated on
the self-proclaimed FREMONT
VILLAGE SQUARE.... But the
outdoor power outlet was juiceless and
Marlon fretted about the landlord so
that dream quietly died. I lugged my
gear back home up the hill. Sarah asked
me to get some wine at Marketime. As I
got there, the #5 was disgorging a shit
ton of passengers 2 blocks off its
route. Now, there's a lot of preparatory
barricading, blockading, and fencing
going on for a giant corporate
advertisement taking place this weekend
on Fremont Ave, but that should not have
diverted the bus. I asked the rider on
the left if the driver had missed a turn
and she said yes. "The runaway 5!" I
replied and she laughed. Everyone was
smiling as they got off. This tiny
disruption of routine, brought about by
operator error, was enough to fill
people with glee. They didn't need my
cavalcade of pop 45s to make them
happy... (But if you
do, please extend your feelers. I seek
to bring the
party.) |
|
|