The thing about working nights is that you start devaluing daytime. Mornings are the first casualty. It’s not like I don’t get up early enough to acknowledge them (10 am?). It’s just that I do nothing with them at all.
So yeah, I work nights at a pub. The customers are usually fairly predictable, which is why I was completely thrown one night a couple of weeks ago when I met an Irish midget wearing a pink fluffy cowboy hat. Never mind the who’s or whys, the very fact that a situation exists in the world that calls for this spectacular combination of dress sense, ethnicity and personal physiological circumstance, cheered me up. I wish I got a fucking photo with this guy, who it turns out was actually pretty funny and nice. In lieu of a photo, here is a picture I drew.
If only I did get that photo, I wonder what my grandkids would think when they found a photo like that. You know, just slip it into a sensible hardback photo album, the sort your grandma keeps near the TV cabinet. Who knows, but it might be good for the lulz. Maybe their reaction would be similar to my reaction on finding this photo of my dad circa 1971.
I saw some guy in newtown yesterday with a ponytail and it gave me the shits. Long hair can look cool, so just do that, yeah? I mean, ponytails, on guys. Why? A girl might put her hair in one, but its not a hairstyle its a practical thing. Right? Keeps long hair off your back, out of your eyes and food. No girl that you know will wear a ponytail out. So why do guys with long hair think its a good idea? They have long hair all the time and then go out in a ponytail. Its chat. Unless you are a Spanish fencing instructor, or a 19th century stable-hand, don’t do it.