Tonight the boyfriend and I went to see Amelie. It is French and has lots of symbolic colors. On our way to the movie theater, which is in the same parking lot as the coffeeshop referenced in the entry referenced by the link above, we stopped off at the ATM. It's funny, but they won't let you in unless you pay them.

We were in a heated discussion about something when we noticed a man, red faced, snorting, shuffling from side to side and approaching rapidly. He was trying to get a better view of us, of me. I didn't recognize him until he got within a few feet of me and said, "Hey, it's Mr. Coffeehouse! How you doin'?"

I took Tom by the hand and encouraged him to pick up the pace. "Just fine, we're just fine" I said as I passed him. I didn't turn around. I don't know how long he watched us depart. I don't know where he went when we passed him. I don't want to.

Tom's been laughing at me all night. I'm freaked anyway. It's been months and I would have thought I'd effectively disguised myself what with the radical alterations I've made to my appearance. I guess I'm just that memorable.

BUT ONLY TO THE DERANGED.

I honestly don't know how I do it. It's a gift.

Posted at 11:32 p.m.

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