1. Get taxes done at 9am
2. Get Passport Photo made at 12pm.
I woke up early, shuffled into the kitchen hair an albatross nest, one eye only half open, the other still too foggy to focus. Even my blue and white night gown was asking for 15 more minutes of sleep. The cats didn't move from their posts on the foot of the bed.
I opened the freezer to get the coffee out, because I was in dire need of the beautiful strong Black Silk that only Folgers makes.
Only, I had used the last bit of it, yesterday. (Yes, I scraped out the very last ground, like a junkie grabbing for any tiny bit of his poison)
In my dismay, I groaned "Really?!"
The contents of my freezer looked back at me. Mocking me.
The Gorton's Fisherman tried to come on to me. He was so egotistical in his yellow rain slicker and his burly grey beard. I told him it was too early for fisherman monkeyshines, and I wasn't interestd in his goods this morning.
The Jolly Green Giant taking offense at my rejection of that sauve man of the sea, insulted my virture. Signature phrase, my tailfeathers!
Lindy's Pistachio Gelato Man made a scathing hand gesture in my general direction.
They're a touchy crowd in the Am.
I shut the freezer door in disgust. I didn't need to be insulted by products, when I was already injured by the lack of coffee goodness.
I had to do what no woman wants to do...No...it didn't involve that schmoozer fisherman...
I resorted to the 'emergency coffee stash...AKA...Taster's choice.
After downing the coffee....
I went to the ft. meade tax office...and even though it seems impossible...I got lost. Totally lost looking for the tax office.
Nevermind that I went there with my husband. That was way back in January. And all those buildings look exactly alike. Regardless...I DID find it. Eventually. And the taxes were done.
I had just enough time to dust off my hands and then it was on to the Photo lab...
This building looked like it truly WAS there when Ike had his day in the sun at Camp Meade.
It was old. It was rickety.
Walking in, I felt like I was entering no man's land.
I followed the signs that pointed the way to the PHOTO LAB.
I walked to the window.
A man who looked like Chef, complete with red tee (no hat) was sitting there, chewing his food. I said " I have an appointment."
He nodded and swallowed and said "Yeah. He's not in right now. He's at lunch. He'll be back."
I nodded ok and took a seat.
Two other would be travelers came in. In Uniform. One was Jack Black, the other Richie Cunningham. both carrying shirts.
Five minutes later music comes on. Babymakin' music. Chef sticks his head out of the window, clears his throat and says "Ok. I'm back. Ma'am. You ready?"
Apparently when Chef is out-to-lunch, he refers to himself in 3rd person.
He asks the men if they brought shirts. They start taking off their uniform top to put their regular shirts on. I had to stifle my laugh and bite my smile.
It is very personal to watch someone put on a shirt. And I could just picture them in their homes. The Jack Blackesque guy stretching the shirt as he slides it on. The skinny guy singing while attending to the buttons...
I looked away to give them privacy. And so they wouldn't see me giggle.
I got to be first to mug for the camera.
It was very very middleschool year book picture.
Little stool to sit on.
Background.
Move my head a little this way.
Up just a little this way
and one two three say "My grandma's a monkey's uncle!" and click.
This picture will haunt me.
Nothing Chef can do to change it.
Then I raced back to my apartment to meet my sister. We lunched. We laughed. We visited our good friend Ollie. We had coffee...ahhh...alas. the good stuff.
She brought me a box of thin mints, & a cadbury egg.
We came back to my apartment, watched possibly the BEST episode of Gilmore girls, and made Hobo Popcorn.
Good day indeed.
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