We thought we'd better fill up with gas - not entirely sure what aspect of the oncoming Tropical Storm might necessitate jumping in the car and driving off, but if we need to, it would be more than maddening to find that all the eletrically-powered pumps were out of order, and that we were running low ... At the moment - nearly 9 p.m. - the air is dull and grey and slightly heavy, and there isn't even a breath of wind. Actually, it's rather like New Jersey. The only thing that's unusual is the number of Great Horned Owls hooting out at the back of the house.
This is the Russian Orthodox Church of the Holy Transfiguration - dating back to the late 1930s - looming over the gas station. But the slight surrealism of it was completely surpassed by the scene that unfolded while we were there. Two separate white cars came down Western, each driven by a woman in - maybe their early 20s? - both wearing bright orange tank tops; one yelling obscenities at the other. Car # 2 comes into the gas station, pulls up at the pump parallel with ours, and the young woman picks up a huge meth pipe, and strikes a match to ... well, at this point we left, fairly speedily, since this didn't seem like the safest thing for her to be doing in that particular location ...
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