I just made a trip to the grocery store, and as I walked between the grocery store and the Starbucks, a homeless man, as I passed him, in a voice like Tom Waits' but slightly deeper, "Tch"ed derisively and said, "Shit. Like Bonny and Clive, man. What d'you, shoot bullet holes in French cars?"
At Starbucks I bought a bag of their Pike's Place coffee beans, each bag bearing a label marked with the signature of the person who scooped the beans and the date the beans were scooped--in my case, 3/12 and "Skye", and Skye put a little heart next to her name. Thanks, Skye. I hereby pledge to love you with the boundless love of a man who's never met you, knows nothing about you, and intends to grind and percolate your beans.
Actually, I do like to imagine Skye is some incredibly beautiful and affectionate beatnik. I guess Skye sounds more like a hippy name. That's cool, too--whatever you're into, babe.