And please, feel free to eat any food that’s in the house
In what could only be an act of contrition, the Chinese tucked two fortunes into my cookie today:
“Good things are being said about you.” and
“Your talents will be recognized and suitably rewarded.” (That is, if I don’t die from eating so much Chinese food.)
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Rather than put myself through the hassle of finding a new apartment here in San Francisco, I think I will instead become the guy who watches your house and dog while you’re away. Tonight through Tuesday Louie and I begin another mini-vacation away from my roommates, sequestered in a studio apartment in the Mission with a lush green backyard, and a car available in its own garage. And a sweet dog named Basil. Plus there’s something about just disappearing from my house for days on end that appeals to my passive-aggressive side. Not that they’d notice.
