We were chatting through facebook tonight with me taking advantage of how slowly she types. She mentioned about turning on Motown to get herself into the mood to clean. I had gotten my health insurance check today. I get these checks with these incredible grosses on the pay stubs which is what I could actually live on. But then there is the net, which is what the company deducts for health insurance and a lot of good shit you don’t want to worry about.
I had never actually used the insurance until last Friday, when I gave it to the VA. Then I called a dentist and said my teeth are bleeding, help. He said, brotherman, we got you faded. Or something like that in white guy talk.
Now, remember that I am in this reality show, in which I am playing the role of this talented, kooky but interesting older Vietnam era vet who had become a mental health worker. And so he meets this cute, interesting white woman in the hallway of a mental health complex and it’s like he’s dumbfounded. What if she’s a vampire or something else? So he has all these questions programmed into his brain set to go off at different times.
Like “are you a vampire” and “what do you like men to do?” But the times when he is at home, texting back and forth are a whole nother animal. he’s drinking his wine, vibing off off Motown, singing You Can’t Hurry Love at the top of his lungs, while also sometimes eating a piece of fish. The episode finished in a hail of Motown and I was sitting there reading a novel about a woman with a child named Turtle. Obviously, I have to watch what me agent suggests for me to do.