Ok.... Just shoot me. NOW.

Yes, it is that sort of day here. And they DO shoot horses, don't they? First I get up, and my foot went down so it doesn't look like a ham hock. That was good.... And got the basics done for Peter, and by the time I got there, it hurt like hell-fire, and I couldn't really cook. Ooohhh... swell.

I wanted to leave by noon, it was unbearable. Whereupon my neighbor W., the French Foreign Legtion guy called me on my cell. Which always, ALWAYS drives Peter to distraction for jealousy. Whereupon I must MUST add, the FFL guy is so straight, they don't MAKE them like that any more! Gott.... I wasn't in his mansard attic for three days, and he likes me to translate for him. His 'angeels, and Goddesses... I saw no way to get up the stairs in the afternoons...

To review... he hates Americans, but thinks I'm 'ok'. Uh-huh. Whatever, I went up there after Peter today.... He needed a translation programme, you know? Where he can write in German, and it translates to English. OH GAWD, the free stuff is so bad, I mean I had an hilarious time with Babelfish, but that wasn't what he needs. I finally found one. It took hours, and my leg was killing me by that time... So I taught him how to use it. It isn't perfect, but it works. And I told him I feel uncomfortable about being the third wheel on the bicycle, and so on. It is HIS stuff, and he KNOWS about MY stuff.... I suppose if you were to ask him, he would see me with the one word 'Camaderie'. And that is pretty daunting.... If nice.... We can talk about all sorts of things, and yes, he can make me laugh in a way I never experienced before. Just jock talk. I never experienced that before, just guys being pigs, well, not, but just open. Odd for me. Very odd.
So that seemed to be ok. I mean, here is this person who doesn't know me from a hole in the ground, and he gives me all his entry ID's and Passwords to all his sites? I wouldn't even give mine to PETER!

And no, will not misuse that trust, but I did tell him, 'What the FUCK do you think you are DOING?' Gewalt.....

So I thought the day was over, and got me some food for supper. There is this poor man from Nigeria who always sells magazines about immigrants because he can't get a work permit. We were always 'jolly', but one day some months ago, I was going home with a dvd in hand, and he asked me what it was. Tja. It was Brokeback Mountain. Nigerians and gays, Preciousses.... Just FORGET it. He cut me off as if I were contagious. And he did NOT like that I have mixed blood in my family. I was amazed. Two strikes and I was just OUT.

So this evening, after ten days of humpling about with a cane, I come out of the supermarket. He hasn't spoken to me personally since the above, but if I wheel Peter in there, he is very nice to him and greets him. And he got this 'beligerent' look on his face, and said, 'It HURTS me to see you in so much pain, and you should see a doctor! Have you got pain pills? Is anyone DOING antything? ' Well whaddaya know.... And I said, 'How kind of you. Yes. I have some salves. It takes time, John. But thank you for asking. That means more than you know....'

Isn't it ODD that you get a little moral boost from those you least expect it from? His instant rejection of me reminded me of my brother's reaction. And he wasn't 'family'. Just an acqaintance. I think he knows that he hurt my feelings. But he opened up a little channel where we can speak again. And NO, I have no 'feelings' other than friendship if it could possibly be.

You know, the arm-punching asshole things guys do.... and to learn from one another....

Sorry, am being maudlin this evening. But that was a lot to take....