Transparency

I’m wearing my new white Aldo sneakers today. They are definitely new but stylized to look worn and tattered. They came dirtied up with this black tar stuff which could be peeled off easily if I had longer fingernails. Long fingernails are feminine. I don’t have long fingernails because I am a man who loves manly things like dirty shoes, sweaty shirts and short fingernails. But, if you happen to see the pink pansies and lacey inpatients in my garden, please don’t hesitate to appreciate.

I sorta like these shoes. They fit comfortably, despite the creak and squeak they make with every step I take. I swear though, if they weren’t 80% off when I bought them, I wouldn’t have bothered. My closet is filled with enough shoes, but a good bargain is hard to resist. Besides, they came laced up in a funky untied symmetrical pattern.

I’m hungry. Should I have Thai for lunch? There is this highly popular Thai place down the road. I should probably check it out, considering we are moving to Framingham tomorrow (goodbye Waltham, goodbye route 95 traffic, hello spending $1,196 a year on mass pike tolls!)

The restaurant is called Green Papaya. I haven’t eaten there because I’m scared of cellophane noodles. They taste fine, but find their transparent appearance unnerving.

I don't trust anything transparent. No matter how hard you look you can only see what’s on the other side; blinding everything immediate and temporal.

Go red sox!