Devon Hunter

Wow, so now I’m writing a blog entry at 5 o’clock in the morning… HA! What a trend, right?

So, anyway… the weather here in God’s country is generally bipolar. And today was no exception. After intermittent rain all day (one particularly heavy shower even had thunder), it got warm enough for me to be comfortable leaving the house in a tight black tee and tight jeans. And no jacket. Remember that…

Four o’clock comes rolling around, and we’re all heading out of the club finally. The door opens and we’re all blasted in the face with some cold arctic breath. You’ve never heard 5 homos shriek in a perfect C Major Augmented chord before, I’d be willing to bet (yes, I sang the high E… and what?).

I felt like I was freezing very quickly from the door to my car. I sat down, closed the door, cranked the car, turned on the defroster, and got blasted by more cold air. The whole time I’m thinking to myself (well, yelling out loud at myself), “Why didn’t you just bring the damn jacket! No, you had to be sexy rolling up into the parking lot! Now look at you! That booty looks like Eskimo Pie now, doesn’t it?!”

I crash at my friend David’s house in Atlanta. He’s the door whore at Swinging Richards. Be nice to him. He’s fabulous. Anyway, we’re running from our cars to his apartment, and he says, “You’re running like Cookie Monster!”

“I’m cold!”

“Be sexy!”

“I feel like a fish stick!”

I don’t know why this was so funny or why I feel compelled to share it. I suppose I should find some moral for the story… Hmmmm… Uh… Ah! Don’t trust that Spring has truly arrived until you’ve gone a whole ten days in a row without wondering if you should take your jacket with you. Sleep tight!