(this is annie)

As if my choice of watching Buffy instead of partaking in my regular Tuesday Museum Night wasn't proof enough, here's more evidence that I am becoming dumber every day. As Kevin gently pointed out, 'orange' has two syllables. Not one. Two. I guess I knew this in my mind yesterday when I wrote the below babble, and what I meant didn't come out correctly. See, I was thinking that one-word establishments tend to sound good. I thought of other well-named establishments: Bird, Grace, Bliss, Find... and they all happened to be monosyllabic. Orange is not, but it's a short word. So you can see how easily I got mixed up.

It was very windy driving to work today. At Fullerton and Halsted, I started imagining that a gust would lift Vespy off the ground, lifting me and the scooter into the air. Think E.T. with hoverbikes, except with a scooter, and without a candy-jonesing alien. But at Halsted and Belden, my flying Vespa dreams disappeared. Yellow "Police Line Do Not Cross" tape surrounded an apartment building on the southwest corner. An orange (there it is again!) Wolley cab was parked at the northeast corner. This wouldn't have been overly strange, but the cab was blackened by some sort of explosion. The hood was completely gone, the windshield blown out, the front half of the car charred black. The plastic on the steering wheel had melted, leaving only a metal skeleton. Peculiar. Did anybody else see this? What do you think it was? Do tell.

Labels: vespy