Wednesday, August 24, 2005

A mystery wrapped in an enigma...

... wrapped in those damn flowey culottes that everyone is wearing and no one looks good in and that I hate.

But fashion is not the point here. The point is this: Today I rode the Red Line with Nancy Drew.

I'm pretty sure it was her: she had the ginger hair, of course, the wide eyes, the nose perfectly upturned just as one would expect such an instrument for sniffing out clues would be. There was no sign of Bess, or of Ned Nickerson, That Boy Who Didn't Really Do Anything Except Serve As The Love Interest, but I'm still fairly certain my identification is correct.

She smiled at me and I smiled back and I wanted her to like me and ask me to be her friend and teenaged supersleuthing sidekick. I was giddy: one of my Childhood Heroes of Fiction, in the flesh!

She got off at Addison, to solve a mystery involving, I imagine, an all-knowing barkeep, a corked baseball bat, and an unfortunate yet telltale tattoo.