01/19/2002 Entry: "With Black Beans, Of Course."

Not to be a haircut blog...

I rounded the corner at 18th and Castro this afternoon. I was going up for a burrito, waiting for the line at Louie's Barber Shop to subside, and whipped around the corner through a bunch of people standing there—club kids handing out fliers, gym boys gossiping, panhandlers, some random people. As I tried not to push people (I'm impatient,) I had to hold the sides of my black coat from flying back and smacking people, and was wearing my new Doc Martin boots, trying to break them in a little.

Behind me I heard someone sarcasticly say, "Ooh, big goth guy, how scary." I should have been angry, but I smiled. I guess I dressed the part well enough, even if I felt like a big dork today. In l'esprit d'escalier, I should have turned around and thanked them for noticing. But I didn't want conflict right then. I just wanted a burrito.

But if there's a particularly Gothic way to eat a burrito, there under Emiliano's watchful eye, I think I did just that.