So, a few weekends ago me and my one (Asian-Canadian) friend took the bus a couple of states over for a daytrip to meet up with some friends of mine who I know from my hometown - the brother of my one friend who runs a domestic violence / homelessness shelter, his hairdresser wife, their 3 young kids, and his parents and younger brother to boot (didn't know they were coming!).
My friend the hairdresser - that is, the wife of the family - is a very cool person, but tends to be exhausted from the kids and can be in quiet moods in larger social settings, esp. if there's someone she doesn't know very well.
Anyhow, she had been stressed b/c they're prepping to move, so I brought her a bag of whole coffee beans from a local roaster (her husband said it's a favorite thing of hers) and she really, really liked the present, which was nice.
Additionally, she and my one (Asian-Canadian) friend got along like gangbusters and had tons of bubbly energy together, which doesn't usually happen when she first meets someone.
As we were checking out art - me and my friend travelled on the daytrip to see this citywide art fest - me and him and her passed by this bicycle decked out in glued-on Mardi Gras beads.
"I wonder how many times she had to lift her shirt for that," my friend the hairdresser was like, speaking about the artist.
Slightly earlier, my one (Asian-Canadian) friend was telling us about how someone he knows studies the culture of prisons, and how if you enter with a haircut at some places, they don't let you cut your hair b/c they want you to look exactly like you came in for ease of identification.
"So you'd come in with a mohawk," my friend the hairdresser was like (my [Asian-Canadian] friend has a mohawk).
"Yeah," he was like - and then we all began to joke how that was dangerous, since if other guys wanted to make him their bitch, he had an easy handle that they could grab on to.
"Or I could try to advertise it as a bonus for people who'd try to protect me," he was like.
Even previous to that, me and my one hairdresser friend were talking about Buddhism, and she was fascinated by this story of an England-born woman who became a nun and meditated for years in the Himalayas.
Still, she had to ask about her time in her little yard that she never left for 3 years.
"So where did she poop?", she was like.
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