So, yesterday Billy and I were sauntering through the Circuit City in Silverlake. Billy had spontaneously and exuberantly decided that what I really needed in this life was a TIVO — and that he was gonna be the one to buy it for me, goddamnit. So, on the hunt we were.

As we walked back to the television accessory department, I happened to stroll past the most darling boy EVER. He was tall and thin, with fair skin and brown sort of curlyish hair. Very unbathed. Very arty. Very Silverlake. He was wearing a salty, ancient Pogues t-shirt.

I was in love.

Unfortunately, he was with what appeared to be his wife — who was pushing a stroller that held what appeared to be his baby.

Oh, yeah — and then there’s also that whole issue of My Sweet Piglet husband.

But I was still in love, goddamnit — and adamantly told Billy so. I flipped my hair and coyly motioned to my boy across the aisle, who was looking at some flat screen hi-def tv’s. Billy glanced over at him — and began to laugh out loud.

“You fucking pedophile. Do you have any idea who that is?”, he snickered derisively.

I looked back over at my boy — and I’ll be goddamned.

Christ, I am a pedophile. Perhaps I should just throw in my old whorin’ towel…and phone the fuck home.

Then again, the whole incident is just so my life; odd, improbable, and endlessly interesting.