My Life

I'm still living in Rockridge.  I lived in Rockridge yesterday, and I'm still living here today.  It was a sunny day today here in Rockridge, the place where I live.  It was really sunny, so I got on my bicycle and rode to the post office in Temescal and to the library in Elmwood to do my really important errands.  It was the most fascinating adventure.  Before I embarked on it, I dropped by Jarny's salon and she gave me $20 to get some stamps for her, so I took the money and put it in my wallet for safekeeping.

 

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to the post office and the library"

"The post office?"

"Yes, the post office."

"Really, the post office?!"

"Yes, the post office"

"Wow, that's fantastic, can you pick up some stamps for me" she said, handing me a $20.

"Of course, I'd love to pick up some stamps for you, the forever stamps?"

"Yes, the forever stamps, how much are they?"

"They're $8.80 for 20 of them, so you can get 2 packs"

"Oh great, thank you, that's great"

"Yes, it is great!  I agree"

"This is really great!"

"It sure is great, isn't it!?"

"Oh, yes, it's really great!"

 

And so, I rolled my bike out the door and rode down the sidewalk, taking great pains to not run over this woman's dog on the sidewalk, and then, I waited for the light to change, and I turned right down College and then made a quick left on some street.  I went left and then left again, and then I turned right, pedaling by houses and cars and trees and down the sunny street.  It was really sunny, but I didn't have my sunglasses because they were in my car where I'd left them after using them on my big drive to Los Angeles.

 

And then, I slowed down at the stop sign to make sure I wouldn't get run over, but there were no cars, so I kept rolling, right on through the intersection, straight down Cavour I believe the street is.  But don't quote me because I, well, I'm pretty sure it's Cavour, so I kept going straight and then I turned left, running over a piece of a branch which gave a bump to my ride, waking me up a bit.

 

So I woke up and there I was, riding my bike to the post office to mail a score from a song I wrote called "Painting Faggot" to a guy up in northern California, kind of near the Oregon border where the Oregonians live.  So I turned right onto 51^st and then left at the firehouse, and then right on the street the bank is on, and then right onto Telegraph, and then I crossed the street into the shopping center where the post office is.  I locked up my bike, wondering if I should take the front wheel off and lock it to the back, but I only locked up the back wheel.  I took off my headlight and put it in my backpack, keeping my helmet on because it felt nice on my head.

 

I waited in line and listened to a woman at the counter.

 

"I keep getting this guy's mail, can't you stop from sending me this crap"

"We send only to the address, we don't look at the name"

"They told me to talk to you, can't you stop sending me this"

"We send only to the address, we don't look at the name."

"Why can't you stop sending me all this crap"

"We only look at the address, we don't look at the name."

"They told me to go to the post office and talk to you.  Are you giving away my information?"

"No"

"Then how did they get my po box number?"

"We don't give out any of your information"

"Then how did they get my po box number?"

"Did you call them"

"They said they got it from you and to talk to you."

"No, we don't give out any of your information."

 

And so another mail person came back and gave the woman a form to send to the postal inspector.

 

And then my turn came and the counter woman said,

"Hi, how are you?"

"Fine thanks, how are you?"

"Is this flammable, explosive, dangerous, deadly?"

"No"

"How would you like to send it"

"The cheapest way"

"Would you like to send it priority, 1^st class, 2^nd class, super fantastically?"

"The cheapest way."

"Would you like insu"

"The cheapest way"

"rance, certified, delivery confirmation."

"The cheapest way."

"Would you like any boxes, postage"

"Could I get two packets of forever stamps"

"Yes, how many would you like?"

"Two."

 

And I finished my transaction, and the postage on my music was about a dollar because it wasn't anything unusually shaped, and I unlocked my bike and rode to the library and returned the Burt Bacharach music book, the Ron Carter Bassline book, and the Rogers and Hammerstein songbook into the return box one at a time, sideways because they were big books.

 

I rode back to Jarny at her salon, but she was busy with a customer, so I left the stamps and change on her desk and rode home as fast as I could so that I could write this fascinating story.