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A basic guitar. The first time we crossed paths the Euros seemed perfectly normal. The dude, a skinny, shaved-headed individual tugging on a cigarette, and the girl, sitting there quietly on her towel, both feigned interest in our dogs—asking the typical ‘what kind?’ ‘how old?’ and ‘what’s her name?’ Perfectly normal. On the way back . . . → Read More: The Guitar Dude As I exited Blenders on State Street the other day, I heard a commotion just up the street. I looked up to hear honking and several people running around a few cars. I couldn’t quite make out the details. I got on my bike, balanced with my smoothie, and began my ride down State. Upon . . . → Read More: G-strings and Sorority Girls |
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