This morning, Judith told me she’d had a dream. She called it a premonition, which sounds more serious but actually isn’t. In her dream, I’d received a kiss-off letter from Sarah-Katherine. It wasn’t a mean letter, but it was definitely goodbye.

It’s weird that Judith is dreaming about me & Sarah-Katherine, and weirder that she told me that particular dream, but who among us isn’t weird?

Anyway, it’s a dream — or premonition — that didn’t come true. Instead, a very nice letter from Sarah-Katherine came in today’s mail.

In too many ways to detail again (see last month’s issue), Sarah-Katherine is the best thing that’s happened to me in the past, oh, 37 years or so. I haven’t had many real relationships with sane women, and I’m self-aware enough to know that I’d probably swoon for any dame that smiled at me and held my hand. Sarah-Katherine isn’t just any dame, though. We click, I think, in ways I rarely click with anyone.

Of course, there’s some truth to Judith’s premonition. Sarah-Katherine will “Dear John” me sooner or later, because that’s what women do. When she dumps me, I’ll keep bumbling along. Been dumped before, and I’m not a slash-my-wrists guy; suicide is far too exciting for a dull dude like Doug. I’ll just go back to my natural state — being alone. I’m good at it, way better at being alone than at being with anyone else.

♦ ♦ ♦

BARTed into the city to have breakfast with Mark Hetts, who writes the Mr Handyperson zine and newspaper column. You know and Mark knows that I abhor anything social, and last week I’d actually weaseled out of a tentative lunch with him (“It’s too hot and sweaty”). Today wasn’t hot and sweaty, I didn’t weasel, and we met and dined in splendor at The Cove on Castro Street. We had omelets, coffee, and conversation, and all of it was good.

I like Mark. He’s a nice guy, and we have some psychosis in common. We could pass for brothers, too — we’re both big white guys with beards and minimal hair on top, we could both stand to lose some weight, and we’re both not trying to slim down.

Memo to Mark: If I fall into my normal hermit habits and don’t call again within a few weeks, please remind me. Breakfast together was fun, and I’d like to do it again.

♦ ♦ ♦ 

While I was in San Francisco and only a few blocks away, there was a work-related errand to run. Remember that lady in March, who’d hired me to clean her garage, but then slept late instead? I’d been there at the agreed upon time that day, my wage is $5 per hour, and my minimum for any job is four hours, so she owed me twenty dollars, but she’d refused to pay.

Well, that debt has now been forgiven, because I’m a magnanimous man. Also because replacing both windows in her garage door will cost her more than twenty bucks.

Pathetic Life
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