My Saturday Night

It's a typical saturday night for me.

I call some friends, they're busy.  or stuck in traffic.

I go to the movies alone.  See Religulous.  I hope I'm spelling that right.  The movie was simultaneously hilarious and terrifying.  And embarrassing--especially the segments shot at the Creation Museum, found just an exit away from my place of employment on I-275W.  I recognize one scene in the movie--a plywood sign erected along the highway.  It reads, "Hell is Real."  I can't remember where I saw this sign.  Somewhere in south-west Ohio.  I was surprised to see Bill Maher omitted one of SW Ohio's great religious landmarks... surely-I thought-I would see "big butter jesus" AKA "touchdown jesus" AKA "who-left-jesus-in-the-quicksand jesus."  I didn't.  Oh well, I suppose there was enough religious fanaticism to go around.

Then, I went to a bar.  Alone.  A blue moon and a stella artois.  I think the girls behind the bar are pretty, but I don't talk to them.  I politely close my tab and leave.

I walk around the riverfront--bored.

I go to the Newport Barnes and Noble.  Browsing books, I pick up one on finding a unified field theory. Another, a book of poetry by Ani Difranco.  Feminist poetry and quantum mechanics: what more do I need?  I sit down at the Starbucks and read.  I pay too much for coffee and eat something that resembled a quiche, but isn't.  I sit in my black t shirt and Gap jeans, light blue hoodie and worn down pumas; I finish my quiche-thing, and turn to leave.  I stop at a display of political books--Obama books on the right, McCain on the left (how odd).  I spot a shirnk-wrapped copy of the New King James Bible, pocket sized travel edition.  I wonder if someone left it here intentionally.  I wonder if someone was making a statement.  I get angry.  I find it to be wonderfully disturbing that I find this Bible sitting on a stack of books about Democratic strategy.  I walk away in disgust.  I start down the escalator, spot a pretty girl in a UC hoodie starting up the escalator opposite.  If this were a romantic comedy....it isn't.

I leave.  The B&N checkout girl asks me if I've heard Ani's new album.  I tell her I haven't; that I didn't even know she had a new album.  I tell her I'll check it out.  I won't.  Maybe I will.

I leave.  Hopefully I can remember where I parked.

Obviously, I did.