London Calling
I was on MAX last week on the way home from work, and something strange caught my eye outside the train. This punk looking guy, straight out of the ’70s-London-Sex Pistols-The Clash-era, was walking down the sidewalk. He had the full meal deal going on: Skintight black jeans torn and cut in all the right places, huge heavy black boots, spiked dog collar around his neck, all kinds of piercings, and a tall spiked bright red mohawk.
And wrap-around sunglasses. And a white cane with a red tip, sweeping side to side.
Yup, being blind, the poor guy had no idea how ridiculously stupid he looked. I can picture his friends, all of them grown up and business men now, with their suits and briefcases, keeping this guy in the dark (so to speak) about how silly he looked.
“Yeah, man you look wicked tough. You still got it. Oh, yeah, sure, of course I’m spiking my hair too. I’m slathering on the hair gel right now.
2 comments September 10th, 2006