taped to the porch of the building next door to mine is desktop-published sign which begins, in large letters: ARE YOU AFRAID TO MOW YOUR LAWN IN 90-DEGREE WEATHER? the sign turns out to be an ad for a grown man who intends to make money mowing lawns. there are not even that many lawns in this neck of the neighborhood.
also: last night, on our way to the drexel, we saw a billboard with a yellow field & large black letters which say: WOMAN WANTED. the person who paid for this billboard listed his e-mail address � [email protected] � & a p.o.box, which i have forgotten. i will pass this billboard again tonight on my way to jason's shindig. i will be horrified anew upon seeing it.
on the fourth floor � the special restricted quiet quiet hush hush floor � of the library where mischka works, there is a notice about What To Do In Case Of Fire, & at the bottom it says: "Walk, and do not run. Maintain silence at all times." i am impressed.
when i wear things with words on them, i become shy. i share a town with conservative strangers who i imagine will be confused when they see my t-shirt that says GEORGE W BUSH HATES WOMEN. even worse is the cowboy junkies necklace which says CHEAP IS HOW I FEEL. scary men who like to lean into my personal space on the bus to say "why exactly do you feel so cheap & how" are not going to know that it is a song title, or that margo timmins made the necklace, or who she is.
& this is not a sign, but it might as well be, because it was so loud: yesterday at work, queenie my famously loud coworker was cleaning instruments with judith-ann, & filling the silences with stories about nothing, because she has what appears to be a pathological dread of silence, & i was cleaning exam rooms down the hall. she is so loud that i overheard her say this to judith-ann: "you know what's fucked up? my mother's boyfriend, he's from hungary, right. & that's a socialist country, right. & they actually. have more rights. than we do. isn't that fucked up!" i coughed, & changed the roll of paper on the exam table.
