09-18-09

I was at the RV park, scraping dried dog crap out of the tread of my shoe when a man with a clip board and name tag came out of nowhere. “I’m the health inspector” he said. I was freaked out by the idea of a health inspection of the park having spent time cleaning and working on the trailers. They were a lot better now, but still probably not totally up to speed. “Do you know where the manager is?” he asked. I knew Corey was home, we we’re going on a bike ride. I pointed him in the right direction. As he walked away I felt like I had made a horrible mistake. I could have said the manager was gone or something to buy time. I threw my shitty shoe on the ground, ran inside, dove for my phone and called Corey. “Pick up, pick up!” I shouted. It only takes seconds to walk to his place. He picked up. I frantically warned him. He was very calm and not worried at all. I guess I was freaking out for no reason. Corey came out and talked to the inspector for awhile. I rode around the neighborhood waiting to go for our ride while they talked. I rode close up to the mural on the wall of the Savoy Theatre. I rode to the other side of the block and ate black berries.
When Corey was done we went for a ride. The inspector only had two small concerns; the sewer hoses and that lime be put on every sewer spill. He noticed that the place looked better since Corey took over.
We rode to Paradise Point Beach and hung out for awhile. Corey jumped off of a cliff.