Garrett Harris 8 p.m., Sept. 15
- Community Blog
Enter the Exit Poll
So I've been pushed and prodded lately by a fellow co-worker, and now fellow blogger, to start myself a little web log 'cause, you know, I live in an area full of something to say. And apparently hear, too. But we'll get to that.
I live in an area of South Park that is both artsy and fartsy. Across the street from me is a tea shop- I mean, shoppe- that sells teas with names that are obviously too thought out. For example, you can try the Organic Rooibos Chai. But if that doesn't suit your palate, how about some Silver Penny Fusian White? Yeah, me neither. Next to the tea place is an art gallery. I live over a restaurant that bases its entire concept behind art and media. Fantastic place. And it's right down the block from a popular bar. There is also a kick-ass market with an even more ass-kicking deli, a yoga place, and my favorite part, a five block walk to Balboa Park where I can sit in the shade and watch crusty old people play golf and curse about some poor swing. Or maybe it's the arthritis. Either way, shoot me before I get to that point.
But up here in my perch, my little birds-eye view of downtown South Park, I tend to hear more than I see. For example, just the other night I heard a tiny waterfall. Tiny waterfalls aren't normal unless- unless you're some drunk jackass urinating on the sidewalk right next to the restaurant... hell, right next to my damn apartment! If each of the three guys involved didn't look as if they ate babies for snacks, I would have said something. So I sat back down and allowed the rest of the night of buses, airplanes, and drunk people's conversations and antics to just happen. Just like every night.
Now, for your reading pleasure, I will introduce you to what will be now known as the Exit Polls. These will be random conversations, what people are drunkenly laughing at or screaming as they leave both the restaurant and the bar, and there may be times where I will instigate a blog entry. Look ma, no morals. But if I'm out having a smoke break from my no TV apartment, why not be friendly? Hell, I'm a friendly guy.