so, this being rockland, maine, there was a contingent* of sailors on the corner outside our building.
i said to
poeticdream: "whoa, there's a bunch of sailors outside." she, of course, didn't believe me. but there they were, clear as a fish in a surrealist's ear.
robin: "i bet they're waiting for prostitutes." "hey sailor..."
me: "hey there. lemme look at your dock and frigate."
robin: "i need your dinghy."
and it just went downhill from there.
*less than a boatload but more than sing YMCA