Wednesday

On Wednesday, I wore yellow all day, but not to skating practice. We went out right after, and though I stopped at home for a moment, I didn't bother changing clothes.

MeeP said, "It's ok! You can change into pants if you want!"
and I said, "No no whatever, let's just go"
She said, that I just did not want to wear yellow
She said, "I like the yellow now!"
See, we did end up still friends.
She said she would not have noticed I was not wearing yellow though, if I didn't say anything, but later it did become exposed:

At the Dizz, I got totally called out on not wearing yellow- I felt so bad about it, I thought, I should have changed!
It's my fault, partially, because I slapped aface for not having his hawk gelled (that was the deal- if he was in public without the hawk up, I could slap him, and if I was in public not in yellow, he could slap me) and then he said "Hey! You're not wearing yellow! Two days... you almost made it."
I had a red jacket, and a red shirt.
Ellen tried to help, said red had orange in it, which was close to yellow...
aface did not want to slap me in public. He said he'd get arrested. He said he would do it later, in the privacy of his own home. Have not been to his house yet.

A premonition.

I had a long walk home to myself, deflated and was smoking a black and mild just because, was walking up the street not really noticing what was around me. Till I saw one cop car, then another, then like three, on the corner by the fire station. I was across the street. Not a big deal, someone getting arrested, but then there was this big brown bag in the middle of the sidewalk and I got curious, what the hell was out here at 1:30 in the morning on the street so I kind of kicked it and
a man was there! where did he come from!
oh!
"Yeah," he said, "That was the six pack, in there, that that guy just threw at my head."
I looked across the street- the po-po van was pulling up.
what
"He was beating his girlfriend," the guy continued. He had a little broom and dustpan, I hadn't noticed all the glass he was now sweeping up.
You didn't call 911?
"No, well, she did."
Oh, and like a drunken idiot, I was just watching and didn't know what to do. Finally, I picked up the wet paper bag and threw it in a trashcan. Told him I was sorry, so sorry that happened to him.
"That's fucking Hampden." was his response.
I wanted that to not be true. Hampden was supposed to be hipsters and DIY and antique stores and all the things MeeP and I talked about on the way down this very sidewalk, a few hours earlier. But it was fucking Hampden. And this was red- cops and shitty blunts and throwing glass bottles at strangers in the night, beating girls and walking up the street alone. The only thing missing was the blood, but you could feel it seeping anyway, could feel it in my jacket. I'm sure it was there somewhere.

I hurried up the last block and a half- the moon was huge- and after 50 feet or so, I stopped looking back over my shoulder at the man sweeping up the shards by himself on the corner.