Wednesday, November 09, 2005


I enter the apartment building and I fumble for my key to open the main inside door. A guy is standing there, probably waiting for someone. He has five piercings on his face alone. Plus, hanging from his belt loop, a chain of keys that look rusty and unused. And a bandana around his forehead. In fact, he very much looks like a pirate. Do I let him in?

If he had been dressed in JCrew pants and had hair that was casually long (as opposed to authentically long, greasy and held together in a spaghetti-like pony tail thing), if there were papers under his arm (as opposed to a pack of cigarettes in his fist), would have I hesitated?

No, but then neither did I hesitate with this Captain Kidd. I held the door for him. Only he was too busy rolling tobacco to notice.

Am I the only one who will go off with virtual strangers, let pirates in my building and ride on a motorcycle with someone who has spent exactly 2 seconds reassuring me that accidents don’t happen on dark roads in the middle of nowhere?

Maybe I have pirate leanings myself. Maybe. I do have a pirate name, if you can believe it. (You too can have a pirate name. Just go here. Whatever you think of Internet quizzes – this one gives the dopiest of dopy results, but it’s awfully fun to take, especially after you’ve had some of the strong stuff.)

On the other hand, I just explained to the author of this blog that really, my ancestors were not pirates but gypsies. Either way, risk-takers, adventure-seekers, and often, as the legends would have it, a tad crazed. What can I say…