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The really cool bike.
2004-08-20 - 10:16 p.m.

Feeling: silly
Listening to: the dishwasher
Reading/Watching: nothing. Thesis page count: still 19.5

Leaving the movie theater (Nimsay talked me into seeing Garden State with her, despite my determination not to leave my cell room before finishing my self-assigned six pages), my roommate and I were walking toward the car, talking about the movie and how much we loved it.

These two punkish boys (they weren't actually "punk", they were just being loud and bratty and racing through the cinema five minutes earlier), who couldn't have been more than ten, approached us and, without a hello, said to Nimsay:

"Hey, can I ride on your bike?"
"Yeah, can I have a turn?"

We looked dubiously at each of them, then down at the electric wheelchair/scooter she uses to get around (since her disability requires it, unless she plans to walk everywhere on her knees), and they kept asking.

"I want to ride it."
"It's really cool."

I was very tempted to ask her, "Yeah, how come I never get a turn to ride your bike?"

We wound up completely ignoring them (since they hadn't bothered to say hello or please or anything), and laughing our asses off all the way into the car.

On a side note, Garden State is wonderful. I want to see it again. I really wish Lala could've seen it with us (you should see it, Lala, really really; if you have to crawl to Dallas to do so, it's still worth it).

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