Say NO to drugs

A man got on the El with me at my stop. Mid-40s, disheveled, rubber band around his wrist, strange wet stain on the sleeve of his t-shirt, wild, wiry, unkempt hair. He was clearly stoned out of his mind, barely able to walk onto the train and sit down. He spent the first few minutes of the ride studying the folds of a crumpled napkin in his hands, then fell asleep, head dropped forward, mouth open. He started to snore. The other guy on the train and I looked at eachother and shrugged. Still completely passed out, the stoned man put his hand down his pants and started unconsciously playing with himself. He didn't wake up but got more vigorous. I turned away. Hand still down his pants but now barely moving, he started drooling sickly yellow drool onto his chest. It hung there in a perfect beaded string. I wanted to take a picture. I couldn't have made this guy up if I tried.

I've been in prickly/cranky mode for the last few days. I'm not sure why. Probably the full moon or a disgruntled butterfly in South America.

I knew Josh Groban was at Interlochen the same time I was, but I just finally placed him in my memory. Oh, he was that Josh. His first year he was generic chorus for Sweeney Todd, then his second year I think he was Motel or something in Fiddler. I think he was the one people got all upset about when he got the part because he didn't really have the range for it. He was kind of geeky and Jewy-looking but cute and one of the few people in the cast of Fiddler with my friend who she didn't want to strangle. We hung out a few times peripherally and we knew eachother's names and faces. He might or might not remember me as I barely remember him and he's all famous now. Strange.