#47 - my future as a fifty-year-old crackpot (01-98) 



a common problem of service staff, especially ones of restaurants, bars, and coffee shops, is advances made by customers who make the simple mistake that, hey, s/he isn't actually throwing my food in my face, thus, s/he actually likes/loves/desires me! all evidence to the contrary notwithstanding. the freakish little man here was actually a regular at the broadway café for a while, and on one memorable occasion that i witnessed, informed the barista that she had sultry eyes, asked her if she knew what sultry meant, and intimated that it was in fact a compliment.

actually her eyes were usually set in an expression of, leave--me--alone, and she had no particular response to this other than a faintly perceptible sigh. already defeated in my pursuit of the young lady i mentioned in the last comic, and various other little failures centering amongst others on both the grocery store clearly nature's own (now a wild oats) and recycled sounds, it was quite easy to see the same future for me. i would subsist on a diet of coffee and ripple and cheese sandwiches, and die in a hole. it remains to be seen if this future will pan out, but all indications are that it will not.

as i look at this one, apparently i skipped over a few things in the story . . . like why Hope was mad at christopher.

now that was a story . . .

i'm not so impressed by the art in this one, but it's better than most of what went before.
 


 

 


 
 

Posted: Sun - May 23, 2004 at 07:41 AM             |

©