7-12-99 1:28 PM M
I"m at El Coyote.  I ate a fat-ass combo, tamale and taco with rice and beans and cheese and sour cream and extra tortillas.  I've had three screwdrivers, and now I've got a bloody Mary and cup of coffee in front of me.  A loud-mouthed Brit has been roaring about American politics for so long, I want to punch him in the mouth whether I agree with him or not.       Flashes of white cracked the sky over the San Gabriels yesterday attesting to the heat storm in the mountains north of our baseball game.      I rode my bike here. I typed fifteen minutes this morning. A girl on a cell phone says, "Honey" and "Darling" constantly.  She opened her conversations with, "I'm calling you from El Coyote even though I always swore to myself I'd never talk on a cell phone at a restaurant."  Yeah, right.      I rented "Sex, Lies, and Videotape."  I guess when I'm done with this, I'll ride over to Farmer's Market and read some Ernest before I head home.  Then I'll do my third-person page.  Then maybe I'll watch that movie.  Then work on Jim.  Then go to work.  Then what?  It's about a hundred degrees outside today and humidity say at sixty percent.  What else?  Bob and Mike started talking about baseball brawls.  Whatever.  What else?  Jose came by to look at the bare wires coming through the dry cypress tree, said he'd send someone out Wednesday to figure out what to do about it.  Mac called.  Said he won some money in Vegas and was sending me a money order for the hundred bucks he owes me.  What else?  Has Aaron locked his keys in the car?  Is the battery dead?  Both?  What kind a friction will there be between Jeffrey and Jim?