Muslin Bunnies. A Kitchen Table, St. Paul

You're like me, and you're like me. You have bookshelves full of books. You can never have enough bookshelves because you have more books than you know what to do with. But my sister-in-law bought this house in Lake Geneva, with built-in bookshelves, and she didn't put one book in them. All she had in them was muslin bunnies.

College Girls. Coffee News Cafe, St. Paul

1: Even if she doesn't know anything about it, she wants to have a conversation about it.

2: People who are more educated tend to want to listen more.

1: It's just such a burdening process. I'm the only person with intellect she knows, I'm the only one pushing her in the other direction. Everyone else supports what she says. It's just so good to see what's on the other side of the tracks. You learn to defend yourself, articulate your position. We went out for a drink one night and I was, like, ready to leave. They were just talking about Mexicans and how they take our jobs. I said, these are people from Central and South America, poor countries, and they come here for a better life. There was a time when America offered a better life, and Europeans came here. And I guarantee you, if Canada had a better life you'd be running for the border. And she's like, I guess you're right. And I'm like, whew, watch your mouth.

2: It's so hard for them, too. Like, they cross rivers, or stay in the back of a car for four days to get here.

1: Last week I ended up waiting at someone's house for a pregnant woman who never showed up. So then this other woman who was there started asking me questions, about what I do, about my travels in Mexico, the people I stayed with. She asked, "What do they eat over there? Did you cook them American food?" And I said, "What do you consider American food?" She said, "I don't know. Cornbread." Then we started talking about Rita, and how sad it is for these people, and how the government is letting them down. And that was really interesting. She said, "I don't know what you believe in, but the bible says you get back what you give." She was talking about karma. I don't know. You know when you're having a conversation with someone, but you're also having a sub-conversation in your head? I censor myself, because there's just so much going on up there. But it was great. I was getting paid to help this pregnant woman, but instead I'm having this interesting conversation with this other person.

Lamenting and Knitting. Nina's Coffee Cafe, St. Paul

Lamenting
I've got maybe two friends--yeah, two--that I talk to. One of them, we were lovers for a while. The second is just a friend. We talk about what's going on rather than, you know. When I see him, it's always about what you've been doing, not who you've been doing.

Knitting
1: I thought this was a knitting circle.

2: We haven't begun yet. We were talking about you. Was I rude to you on the phone?

1: You weren't rude on the phone. Do you know how often I use that tone? I've learned not to answer the phone. Especially in the middle of a diaper change ... This is the yarn I got at Target for a dollar a skein. Don't tell anyone. A dollar a skein.

3: Target has yarn?

1: In their dollar bin.

2: Where's their dollar bin?

1: Right by the door, to the right. When was the last time you were at Target?

2: 15 minutes ago. I know my Targets. That's why I'm looking at you like you're crazy. Which Target are we talking about here?

1: Midway. Right on University, near Snelling, or Hamline. Right on University.

First Date. Axel's Bonfire, St. Paul

I was like seven. I wrote all the lyrics. And my oldest brother wrote a little part of it. It was like, [singing] "I have eyes like a ray, I never lay." Which is funny, because we meant lay down. I swear to God, don't make fun of me. "And when the zombies come, everyone runs." And my brother's keyboard part was like, [singing] neer, neer, neer, neer.

Tasmanian Devil, that's a fuckin' redneck thing. That just blows my mind. Tasmanian Devil and white trash. That just blows my mind. They're like, I'm so crazy, I could kick your ass. You think they even watch the show? On Saturday mornings, you think they watch? I don't think they do. They're just like, "Taz, he's fuckin' crazy."

You've never seen Desperate Housewives? At the beginning, it's like, the Garden of Eden, the apple?

What's your favorite drink? Beer?
I want a martini.

Habachi Shrimp. Black Dog Cafe, St. Paul

1: My grandfather's nearly blind. We drove him up here. During his midlife crisis, he was in some hotel room in Maryland, everything was carpet. Walls, ceiling, everything. He thought it was the coolest thing ever. So he started collecting carpet for his attic, and did it up. This was during the sexual revolution, Playboy was very big and kitschy.

2: This place still exists?

1: Yes. And now they're trying to sell the house with the carpet in the attic intact. Everyone wants to get rid of it. I want to get rid of it. But the problem is he used this really weird glue and it's impossible to take off. And there are weird signs all over, like "George Washington never lied in bed," with a picture of George Washington's butt over a bed. And of course, everything's black-lit. It goes on and on and on.

2: Oh my god.

1: So I realized that this is not a normal thing to have in your grandparent's attic. And that's where all the kids' toys were.

2: [Laughter]

1: So he lost a leg this year. His life is about consumption. He can't see, he can't really walk. But he can taste. So yesterday we were at a family party. It's a very big deal for him to come up here. He's from the Chicago area. He refused to eat anything. And we asked, "What do you want, Grandpa?" And he said, "Habachi shrimp." He knew exactly what he wanted.

Will She or Won't She? fhima's, St. Paul

She: I didn't want to do it. He asked me.

He: Oh. He asked you.

She: I mean, I was gonna do it. Now don't say anything.

He: I won't. Trust me.

She: It'll never happen with us. Because we're not like that. You know who I am. This is who I am.

He: Totally. 100%. Definitely.

She: Hey, I can feel it. You know me.

Philosophers of Childrearing. Rudies Coffeehouse, St. Paul

1: We were thinking maybe we should teach my daughter stenography. She could actually get things written down in a logical way. What do you think of that?

2: I think it's cool. My mom used to do that.

1: No, but for someone like my daughter?

2: I don't know how she learns. Maybe she learns better by listening.

1: Yeah, she does.

3: The problem is when you take notes, you're trying to write rather than listen. You're just concentrating on a sentence behind you, rather than processing anything in your head. When I was in college, I used to just always doodle. And I got better grades than my girlfriend, who would study and study and study. I personally found that when I took any notes at all, it didn't work. That's my position.

1: We're debating sending my daughter to stenography school before she goes to college.

4: Shorthand, that is such a bizarre thing.

2: Is she interested?

1: No, we're still debating this between the adult units.

4: I don't know about her.

1: She's 17.

2: I thought kids in college brought the laptops into class now?

1: But she doesn't have the skill.

2: Well, teach her typing.

1: We've tried.

4: Maybe you could get her a shock collar. It's a little unorthodox, and I wouldn't tell anybody. In fact I got one you could use.

1: Maybe a wireless fence, too, to keep her in the yard?

4: I think she needs some kind of unorthodox, politically-incorrect training, possibly.

1: When she was younger, we had this harness she had to step into, put her arms through, and it zipped up the back, and it had a D-ring on it. Because she used to wander off.

2: Like a leash? A kiddie leash? I used to feel sorry for kids on leashes.

1: We'd used to go to the malls, and you should've seen the moms and how they'd look at us.

4: I love it! It means you have control of your kid.

1: My daughter's the kind that would, you know, you'd be walking along, and she'd wander off because there was something shiny across the aisle.

3: Maybe it was the mask, with the zipper eyes?

1: No, we didn't have that.

4: "She's seen too much today, zip up the eyes. She's over-stimulated."

3: The little blinders, that's what you should've gotten.

4: You have two D-rings, so you could've put the suitcase handle on, picked her up with the zipped eyes.

1: I spent a lot of time holding her where she was screaming at the top of her lungs, flailing her arms, kicking me, as we exited whatever establishment we were in as quickly as possible. Something set her off.

4: What tender age was that? 12?

1: 2 , 3, 4, 5.

3: Has it stopped yet?

1: There's times when it hasn't. We went to this restaurant, the Khyber Pass, used to be on St. Clair. We went in with my folks, sat down, got the waters, got the menus, and she's screaming. She'd screamed since we got in there. Put her in the highchair, she's screaming. This other couple walks in with their parents and two kids, just like us, and my parents and wife and I looked at each other and we picked everybody up, and we left, and this other couple and their parents and kids sat down, just like that. We went home and cooked macaroni and cheese or something, ya know.

2: You were in the wrong frame.

1: What do you do with a kid like that?

4: Well, you don't take them out to restaurants.

1: Yeah, you just can't go with your parents out to dinner, even though you're dying to go out.

4: Yeah, no.

1: And they're paying. You could go someplace interesting!

4: They should have paid for babysitting, too.

1: Oh.

3: I think it's gotten a lot worse, though, with kids.

2: Yeah.

3: Like, running around restaurants.

4: Uh-huh.

3: My friend, who goes down to the Glockenspiel, I don't know if you know who she is, she used to work up at--I think it was Players, in the Mall of America. And one of the guys that was serving--you know they have the door with the window way up high--opened the door up, you usually kick it our push it--SMACK, right in this kid's face. He felt really bad about it, but ya know, he couldn't see the kid. Mom and dad, nowhere to be found. It's like, [worried voice] "Where's your mom and dad?", [tiny voice] "Over there ..."

2: Why are you standing in front of a swinging door?

3: I don't know, I think the punishment for the parents for letting the kid do that would be to take your serving tray and [swings].

2: Smack 'em.

3: That's what you did to your kid, by the way.

4: Well, it was a good lesson. This is what happens when you stand in front of a swinging door, and you're too short to be seen through the window. Pow.

3: Well I think the kid was probably running by, and you know, caught it, as he came out.

4: Either, either way.

1: Either way.

Cell Phone Man. Figlio at Lake & Hennepin, Mpls.

1.
So what's the plan then, where are you going now?
Would you please call me when you're done?
2.
So what's the scoop, are you staying in or coming out?
R. and I were going to go out but he had an anxiety attack. He was fucking blaming me for everything.
Where are you, where are you?
I'm on 20th and Hennepin, you gotta walk down here.
Just meet me at Lunds.
Man, you gotta chill the fuck out.
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, he says.
So you're gonna lose it again?
I'm the one that's supposed to be stressed out, and I'm not gonna lie about it.
You there? You there? Hello?
3.
Sorry about that.
So basically he's got anxiety because he's got this video camera thing. He's got this huge camera, but it's a relative's. So he called me.
It's just that this guy couldn't bear it.