9-20-99 M 10:55 AM

It’s Yom Kippur.  I’m at Doctor Gorlitzki’s office in Santa Monica for a check-up. I think I’m fine, but maybe I should mention my lungs and diabetes in my family tree and the shoulder.  Should I tell him about my smoking and drinking?  Ask for a flu shot?  I haven’t written since Saturday, just before we left for the wedding.  The traffic to Pasadena was like the Hurricane Floyd evacuation.  We got there toward the end of the ceremony, which took place on a railed platform around the trunk of a big…sycamore is my guess, with little white lights twinkling in the leaves.  We ate and drank. At eight or so, I cut out to see the fight at Marietti’s.  A guy named Jerry came with.  The fight sucked.  Lot of dancing, no knockdowns, Oscar did close Tito’s eye and bloody his nose enough to stain Tito’s shorts without ever getting touched himself, but the judges ruled for Tito because Oscar was playing too safe at the end, I guess.  I thought Oscar won.  After that we went back to the wedding and drank and danced some.  I wanted to jump Jaime’s girlfriend and had a feeling she wanted to jump me except for logistical problems, namely Jaime and Shirelle.  She said for us to come meet them at Muse, but when I got up there, the doorman said I was drunk and wouldn’t let me in.  So, we left.  Shirelle drove home.  I woke up Sunday, hung.  Read some of the paper and went with Carlos to our game at Wilson.  We lost.  Again.  We were winning the whole game when, right on cue, we had a three-error eighth inning and lost.  I tapped out to the pitcher, hit the longest shot of the day and got thrown out at third, popped up with the bases loaded, and struck out swinging.  Bernie came over after the game, and I typed up a resume for her interview with United in Chicago next week.  Shirelle made pork chops for dinner.  I read the paper after and never did finish it.  Shrill sent me to get videos.  I got “Amistad,” the original “Thomas Crown Affair,” and “School Ties.”  12:15  I’m in Hooters now.  First Hooters I’ve ever been in.  It’s sort of ameliorating the violation of Doctor Gorlitzki’s finger in my ass.  I guess I’ll read the paper now.