The day before yesterday. Not yesterday but the one before that. Let's just call it: the other, other day. So, the other, other day I went to Venice Beach by myself-- a solitary ritual I enjoy on the rare weekend when I have no plans. Shawnee picked me up from my house and drove me to Venice before she went to work. We grabbed some delicious smoothies and parted ways--she to her job and me to the beach. I walked lazily through the bustling crowds of miscreants and tourists that populate the boardwalk. I noticed a fry cart selling what appeared to be traditional Belgian style fries in paper cones (served with mayonnaise just the way I love them), but I simply shrugged and smiled and resisted the temptation. I sipped on my smoothie and continued on toward the water. I sat down, realizing I'd forgotten a towel, but it didn't seem to matter. Life felt right. I felt content; I was where I was meant to be. I reached into my leather bag and, with some difficulty, pul...
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