Feels Like 33 °F
I have on almost all of the clothing that I own in a carefully worked out layering order.
Note On Consistency In Layering Clothing
When I was in Jacksonville, Florida, around 2009, there was a certain cashier at a Gate Station, named Fahid, I think I recall, who, since he was inside the temperature controlled store, would use me as a thermometer upon the sight of me, which pretty much occurred daily...
If the temperature was, say, 50 degrees, then I would be sporting an orange tee shirt, as I walked past, or stopped in.
There would be 6 tee shirts underneath the orange one, all different colors (which was critical to him using me as a human thermometer).
I would peel my layers off at intervals which were pretty much consistent with the gradients on a thermometer , appearing only in black, for example, when the temps dropped to almost to freezing, prompting me to put the heavy black jacket on over the existent 12 layers.
Fahid knew it was in the 70's or above if I was wearing only the innermost shirt, a navy blue tank top.
I thought it pretty cool that he was that perceptive.
Last (Wednesday) night, I stayed here at the library until it closed at 6 and then went to Starbucks, until it closed at 9, and then went to Rouses Market, where I drank beer and decided to wait for them to put their food out.
It was about 40 degrees out.
I went for a walk to the Lilly spot, to kill time, and admittedly; to see if anyone was going to try to skeeze me so I could shoot them back a sarcastic remark; I was working upon my second 24 oz. Tecate Lager.
The spot was pretty deserted, though I hung out long enough to finish the beer, just upon the speculation that Lilly might show up, or Barnaby might emerge, or some tourist might give me money out of sympathy or any number of other emotions.
Returning to Rouses Market and seeing that they had put the food out, but that it was still an hour before their closing time; and not wanting to disrespect the security guys, and the cop, who are fixtures there by grabbing edibles while they were still on duty; I decided to busk until that hour struck, right across the street, a spot which I never was too keen upon.
I, by then, was in the perfect mood to just play for fun.
I did; working out the chords to and singing "Good Girl," a song which is currently the freshest, most current, most happening, most inter-weaved into the culture and indicative of the vibe which is permeating young society right now song.
the freshest, most current, most happening, most inter-weaved into the culture and indicative of the vibe which is permeating young society right now song.Just walking Bourbon Street with my ears open has been enough for me to be able to parrot that particular song.
Hearing the song one time through my FM radio, through stereo headphones convinced me that, as catchy as it is, it will be a short lived "hit," because of its inane (I think is the word) lyrics.
"I know you want it; you want it so bad...."
Not Money; Food
By the end of the hour, I had only 5 dollars in my case, but had my third Tecate Lager in me, and without it having registered upon me that 5 dollars was probably "good" on a 40 degree night when only locals trundling to the market and quickly back home had passed, I developed a slightly sour disposition.
When Treva, the cashier wouldn't take a Canadian quarter from me, forcing me to break a 5, I got kind of mad and kind of slammed the door on the way out.
A few minutes later, after they closed, I discovered that all of the "hot food" had been neatly placed at the very top of the very first bin which I would come upon, and started to think that Treva had been just teasing me about the quarter, her knowing what lay waiting for me.
A couple of hot turkey drumsticks and a little bit of hot macaroni and cheese filled me up and I stuffed the girders out of rats reach with all kinds of stuff, like some Italian stuff made out of olive oil and basil which should be delicious over somethein g