Skunked

Susan came to stay for a few days last week. She and Amy had a good time travelling around the city. I did a few things with them, but most of my activities with the two of them involved going out to dinner. One night, though, I broke the pattern and the three of us paid a visit to Second City. The usher asked if we wanted to be seated up front and Amy responded affirmatively without really realizing what that meant so we soon found ourselves squashed together on a single side of a table that was jammed against the procenium at center stage. I wonder if I'll ever see my likeness on some promotional poster, frozen in a state of eternal mirth, skin painted with the colors of generic stage lighting. It was a Monday night and one of the travelling companies was performing so I don't think I'll ever be mass produced on a poster, but I'd sure get a kick out of that.

Last Sunday, Amy and I went to the Music Box to see a Japanese film called Dare mo shiranai (Nobody Knows). I recommend trying to see it if you're into that kind of thing. There was, however, a lady sitting directly behind us who made "Captain Obvious" comments throughout the feature. I don't mean whispered comments either. I'm talking normal conversation level intensity, here. I wish I'd had the sack to turn around and tell her to STFU, but everyone else in the theater seemed to be at least tolerating her idiocy, so I did the same.

Finally, over the weekend, we noticed something had been making its best efforts to build itself a home under our shed. There were tracks encircling the perimiter of the back yard that made a small trail to the corner of the shed where a large pile of fresh dirt had obviously been excavated. So, Amy called animal control on Monday and by Tuesday morning, there was a small skunk still digging at the dirt, trying to escape through the mesh of a metal cage that had been left there the previous afternoon. Hopefully, that was the only one. I have not seen evidence of any more. Yet.