sometimes

      Summer In The City –– Regina Spektor

Mr. Big Mouth

So come on

      Come On –– The Jesus And Mary Chain

What about now?

MAN
Will I see you again?

WOMAN
You might.

MAN
I might fall off a bridge.

WOMAN
That’s true.

(A long pause.)

MAN
What I’m trying to say-

WOMAN
Will you miss me?

MAN
Yes.

WOMAN
I’ll miss you, too.

MAN
So, you’re going?

WOMAN
I have to. You understand.

MAN
I don’t.

WOMAN
You will.

MAN
I might.

WOMAN
I might fall off a bridge.

MAN
That’s true.

(Long pause.)

WOMAN
What I’m trying to say-

MAN
I know what you’re trying to say.

WOMAN
You do?

MAN
Yes, and it’s fine.

WOMAN
It is?

MAN
It will be. I’ll understand soon.

WOMAN
What about now?

MAN
Now you’re making a mistake.

WOMAN
I am?

MAN
You’re going to.

WOMAN
Why?

MAN
You have to. You understand.

WOMAN
I don’t.

MAN
You will.

WOMAN
When?

MAN
After I’m gone.

WOMAN
Will you miss me?

MAN
I might.

loyal reader in Japan

To my loyal reader in Japan. In Nagano, to be specific, near Lake Suwa and Mt Moriya––it sounds like a pretty area. Anyway, thank you (I think) for reading the shit out of this blog, or for possibly having a broken computer that over reports stats. If you do, indeed, read this blog as often as you appear to (to me, but not them), I would like to know you.

So, if you’re so inclined, loyal reader in Japan, please either leave a comment or send me an email at meatballday@gmail.com. Perhaps you have a blog that I could link to, perhaps we can become blog pals, perhaps your (apparent) compulsion to read my blog is because we are somehow connected in some yet-to-be-understood way.

I just want to understand, loyal reader in Japan, why you like my blog as much as you seem to.

(Failure to respond in a timely manner may result in future mockery.)

all that is left is all that I hide

      Elephant Gun – Beirut

wine helmet

bahn mi

Listen to this:

[mp3j track=”bahnmi.mp3″>TAL –– Million Dollar Idea

The two restaurants featured in this story are both right down the street from my apartment in Park Slope. Hanco’s is one block south, and I probably eat there about once a week––their Vietnamese sandwiches (“bahn mi”) are the crack-cocaine of the food world. A few weeks ago, I walked the extra several blocks to try Henry’s, but while their menu may be nearly identical to Hanco’s, their bahn mi was not––it tasted fifty cents cheaper, which it was.

This story aired over the weekend while my parents were in town, and one of the few things we didn’t get a chance to eat while they were here was bahn mi. I’m not exactly sure where I’m going with this, except perhaps that there are some coincidences that can’t be easily defined or explained, they just are.

I also think my neighborhood just became a tiny bit more awesome.