(this is annie)


im-tay insella-kay

I keep running into one of Chicago's young musicians around town. For reasons of privacy, we will call him Cap'n Joan of Owls. During one particular week, I saw Cap'n Joan of Owls three times at Lula Cafe alone. He popped up here and there, everywhere. I'd briefly talked with him once during the winter, when he sported what I considered an unfortunate mustache—a mustn'tstache, if you will. Anyway, the point is, we've never been introduced, but surely he has to think it's weird that we keep showing up at the same places. We're probably both thinking, "Argh, there's that weirdo again! Am I being stalked? Whatever would bring one person to Lula three times within five days? I will pretend that I saw nobody, and carry on smoothly with my normal day."

I hadn't seen Cap'n Joan of Owls in a couple of weeks, so I thought maybe the planets had realigned, keeping us on our normal paths away from each other. But then, I was shopping at Saks Fifth Avenue, and there he was sitting with his ladyfriend. Finally I decided to say something. "Why do we keep running into each other?" I said to Cap'n Joan of Owls. "I mean, don't you notice that we're always at the same places? This is kind of weird."

Cap'n Joan of Owls just smiled sweetly at me. "And why are you at Saks Fifth Avenue?" I continued. "I didn't know you liked Marc Jacobs."

With a gentle shrug, Cap'n Joan of Owls said, "Man, who doesn't?" and then walked away.

Oh, I should mention that all of the Saks bit was a dream. But it was pretty convincing, eh?

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