My office stinks of Chicken Tikka Masala and Vegetable Korma. What is it about Indian food that makes it so pungent? On my way to pick it up, I saw a woman that had an honest to goodness moustache. This isn’t the first woman I’ve seen sporting a really thick and dark moustache. There was a singer in Suburban Station that not only had a fuzzy lip but a goatee as well. I can’t figure out why these women didn’t shave it or wax it or pluck it or at the least bleach it. Perhaps they just embraced their furry nature and if that is true, then I salute them. Or as Sidd Finch would have said, “Namasté”

There’s a man that rides the same train as me. He is the most talkative man! He is always engaging people in conversation. His preference appears to be tall ladies but he will talk to anyone. He will tell you that he tests electronics for a living and if you’d like a flashlight he can get one for you, free of charge. I can’t quite figure him out. I think he must be very lonely or afraid of silence. He tries so hard to engage people yet most people resist. The people who do accept him tend to be the Russian immigrants. They always converse right back with him. Next time he talks to me I intend to find out if he has a family. I have visions of him living in a tiny flat with a dog that he talks to all night long.

Lisa is driving into the city to meet me for an evening of drinks and laughs. I’m looking forward to it. Or maybe I am just looking forward to escaping the smell of India. Damn their delectable cuisine!