One of those mildly disorienting Sundays, where suddenly it’s 5:30 in the afternoon and I realize I’ve been up for about nine hours and have not once left the house. When I do, I’m puzzled by the presence of too many lukewarm leatherettes walking around the ‘hood. Then it hits me that it’s Dore Alley Fair day…
Instead of going for a walk, I decide to scurry off to the suburbs in search of cheap cookies and lactose-free milk, hoping they’ll all be gone when I get back. Or at least that it’ll be dark out…
I’ve been pondering Charlotte and Charlotte history all weekend. I’m not sure why. I’m never quite sure why I’m so drawn to the place. The three years I lived there were among the most darkest of my life, and it’s one of the most stuffy, Baptist, Republican places I’ve ever lived. But for some reason, I’ve just about always believed I’d live there again someday…
Maybe it’s the fried squash at Gus’ Sir Beef…
