Met some Swiss people.

A few weekends ago I took up the invitation of a friend of a friend and went to the beach with her and some of her coworkers and their friends, who turned out to be a bunch of German-speaking people, mostly Swiss.

The Swiss were a tad stand-offish, so after I met the 3rd Swiss person (some bearded guy), I was like, "Doesn't your country have that weird minaret law? Did that get passed, or what the heck is up with that, anyways?".

He was immediately sheepish, and said that his country banned minarets, but there were only like 4 of them in the country, and he immediately started saying that just like here, Switzerland has its Tea Party, etc. -

and then I interrupted him and was like, "Yes, but the Tea Party here doesn't take over nationally make laws discriminating against religious minorities. Don't you guys have a Constitution that protects against that?".

Missing my old neighborhood.

I esp. miss my old neighborhood now that it's summer.

I don't go to the beach as much in my new neighborhood, because the beaches are all sandy and guarded by lifeguards and you can't swim out past your shoulders, whereas in my old neighborhood you could lay out on the rocks and slip into the water and be quickly swimming out over your head.

I also miss sitting out by the (French) bakery with the Sunday New York Times, a croissant, and a cup of strong (French roast) coffee.

I also also miss buying pastries from the schismatic nuns.

I was down there last weekend and did those few things (I even bought *two* pastries from the nuns, to save up as snacks). I need to make more summer daytrips down there because I like it so much.

What a busy summer.

I have sh*t going every evening, almost. My schedule is jam-packed! Whatever happened to summers in the city where I would read outside on coffee shop patios and spend leisurely afternoons at the beach?

B*tch*ed out a hipster before 8am.

So the morning I was going to Milwaukee, I biked early to the train station, leaving enough time to get public transportation there on the off-chance that something would happen to my bike.

As it happened, when starting up pedalling at an intersection, my chain got all whack and off the gears, so I pulled over to put it back on, when this helpful hipster person who I guess had been biking behind me stops to help me.

"Need some help, bud?", he was like, helpfully, but also knowingly, like he knew all about bikes.

I said yes, and he was like, "Sure, I'll help," and he turns over his bike on its seat to stand it up while he helps me, and then he takes my bike and flips it over (!), which makes the chain come off much much worse, so I had no idea how to fix it.

After like 3-4 minutes, he was like, "I can't fix this now."

So, I was like, "So what's the problem? Can you try a bit more?", and after he did some more stuff and was getting frustrated, I was like, "I have one question, did you fuck it up worse than it was?".

At that, he was like, "Whoa, buddy, calm down," but that made him fiddle with it more, and get the chain back on.

He left without saying goodbye, really... I think his stopping to help me wasn't altruistic per se, but more of an ego boost to him, since he probably thought of himself as an authority on bikes.

Brazilians.

In the train station waiting to get the train back from Milwaukee, I saw these 2 Mexican-looking guys with this tiny tiny puppet posing it in the train station and taking photos of it, and even posing it and talking to it and recording in on the Camcorder.

When everyone got into line to file into the train, one was by me, so I asked him what was up with the puppet.

As it turns out, he and his friend are from Brazil, and them and a 3rd friend had taken a month-long vacation to drive Route 66, and they had gotten back 2 days earlier, but their 3rd friend had flown back to Brazil because he had to get back to work.

So, they started calling this small puppet they had gotten on their trip by their friend's name, and started including it in all their pictures and making jokes about it, and putting that stuff up on Facebook etc. for everyone to laugh at.

I talked with them quite a while, and they asked for bar recommendations for the evening, and based on where they were staying what they were looking for etc., I sent them to a tacos place to get some food, then this bar with a great outdoor patio, and then a hipster club and a 5am bar.

As it turns out, one of those places is the haunt of the Catalan, so I described him to them, incidentally telling them along the way about the Britney story.

They said that if they saw him, they would buy him a beer, and ask him to go to the Britney concert with him.

Animal control.

My couple friends who live in Milwaukee bought a house last year, and when I was asking them how it was going, they talked about how they returned on a late Sunday afternoon from a long weekend away and discovered a full-sized hawk inside their screened-in porch.

They couldn't figure out how it got there, except maybe through a hole in the screen that was just big enough for it to get through, if it saw it and flew in perfectly.

Anyhow, they weren't sure what to do, so my one friend called up animal control, and the woman on the phone was like, "Have you tried letting it out?", and then when my one friend said she hadn't, she said she could call the local humane society as well.

She tried calling them, and everyone was gone, so she called back animal control and got the same woman on the phone.

That woman was like, "Wait a minute, I need to talk with some people," and then disappeared off the phone for a couple minutes.

Then, she came back, and was like, "Hello, you there? Everyone here just says to let it out."

Drinks with the Catalan.

The other Friday there was a free Spanish guitar concert downtown, so I invited the Catalan to come out (he plays Spanish guitar). He said the concert was too early for him - it started at 6:30pm - but he could meet for drinks later, so we did, at 8pm, which he still said was too early for him... It was very odd to be out at a bar and there was light coming in the window; he usually doesn't go out till 10 or 10:30pm at night.

He was telling me that in Spain, free city concerts don't really start till 10pm, even ones for children.

Also, he was dressed in his Euro-best, which included tight jeans and a pressed collared shirt, and his hair (which is cut in this mohawk thing) was all spiked up with gel.

So, when the bubbly fat (white) waitress came up to us two sitting at a table, she was like, "Hey guys, how are you two doing tonight? You guys going to the Britney concert?", I paused a moment, then leaned in towards her and was like, "He's European."

At that, she just threw her head back and laughed at her faux pas.