Last night I was in the bathroom and left, and like five minutes later I heard the water on and went back in the bathroom, and the sink faucet was on and the basin was almost full and overflowing.
This afternoon, the same thing happened again.
The way I figure, both times I was in a rush and didn't turn off the faucet, and since the water-flow thing in my toilet had been broken for months and I would always hear rushing water, for some reason it doesn't bother me/enter my consciousness till minutes after it's actually been on. Maybe.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Went to a polyamory movie Tuesday night.
I should have blogged about this Wednesday, but I got lazy --
So, like a week-and-a-half ago I realized I hadn't been visiting any new neighborhoods/sites in the city lately, and so I decided to look up the hours on a local immigrant settlement house museum, only to discover that they were sponsoring a 2-times-a-month film series about crazy sex topics followed by a discussion group hosted by a local (female) BDSM activist (mostly, as I found out, because back in the late 19th c. they were early advocates of sex ed).
So, since the upcoming movie was on polyamory, I went, even though no one I knew wanted to go, though I sure as heck enjoyed asking practically everyone I know, including mild acquaintances I'd run into on the street.
Beforehand, I stopped at a local diner close by the venue, since I had seen it before when driving in a semi-industrial area; the place was founded in 1939, but now run by Mexicans and staffed by Mexican and black waitresses (the clientele was black, white, and some Mexican), and the menu said, "New - oxtail soup" on it. I had beef stroganoff, and decaf coffee.
In terms of the film and discussion group, I guess a few things were surprising -
1) Very few members of the audience took the movie seriously, since it was about this nerdy anglophone Canadian couple who were living in Montreal -- the husband was thin and kind of Jewish-looking and liked model trains, the woman was squat with big glasses and a wandering eye, both a real one and she looked at other men -- and so since he wasn't interested in polyamory but she was, they decided to make a movie about her quest to love more than one person and how it affected their relationship...
Everyone laughed a bunch, a lot of times at them. Luckily, I sat next to this young 20s black lesbian with a pierced tongue who talked during the movie, like when this woman whose husband was sleeping with the fat Canadian woman confronted her and said something like, "Did you set out to break up our marriage? because that's what you're doing," she actually snapped in front of me and was like, "Sna-ap," loudly.
Another time when the confrontational woman was on the screen, she was like, "She bipolar," and later when it turned out that the woman actually was bipolar, I asked her how she knew that, she was like, "I'm a psych major."
Also, another time when the fat Canadian woman said she wasn't sure if she was polyamorous, she was like, "And I say, I don't want to be black."
2) I didn't realize this, but polyamory is basically a bunch of (ugly) sci-fi, Lord of the Rings-loving nerds who found out they liked to fuck, but lack drama in their life or people who will casually sleep with them, so they make it into this romantic idealist quest to fill up their lives with these 5-hour long conversations between like 3 or 4 people where everyone asks each other if they're okay and if they really mean that they're okay and are they sure etc. before 2 of them go off to fuck. The word itself was coined by a member of the polyamorist Ravenheart clan in the late 70s, and the OED actually called up this one member Morning Glory for a definition a few years ago.
(Because it's a new word, I was thinking they must have calqued it in Spanish as "la muchamoridad", though, as I discovered, it's actually translated as "poliamor".)
Like a bunch of times in the film, the filmmakers went to polyamorist conventions, and it was nothing but (white) skinny guys in black t-shirts with long dirty hair and goatees hugging a couple (white) (ugly) fat women, and there were drum circles too.
So, afterwards there was a discussion group, and since there was this one late 40s woman there with dyed blonde hair and a fake tan and tall black boots and a short skirt, and she was sitting next to her husband/partner/whatever with wavy dyed brown hair and leather lounge shoes and a purple shirt open to show a big medallion on his chest, and there was an open seat next to her, I decided to sit down there.
The (stick thin but somehow blocky) (ugly) BDSM hostess girl started off the discussion, and this dude named Steve over in the corner who looked kind of dorky started off, and it turned out he was from the local polyamory community. Then there was something else someone said, then the woman next to me raised her hand.
"Before I start, I just want to say, 'Hi, Steve'", she was like, and waved to him over in the corner.
He didn't do anything.
"Do you remember me?", she was like, not needily or even that curiously, but just to establish a fact.
He didn't do anything.
He didn't do anything again.
I was in such shock (but somehow I seemed to be the only person to notice this!) that I don't even remember how she then began her comment, but she did, quite normally, knowing that he didn't recognize her not affecting her at all in any way.
Later, this dude with a long ponytail and a leather jacket spoke, and he was a member of the local polyamory community. He used to work for the government at one point and had a picture of himself and his wife and two girlfriends on his desk, and a female coworker got in his face about it once and asked him if his wife knew.
"Of course she does," he was like, "They're her friends, and it's kind of hard to take a picture all together if she doesn't," and he then asked her if she had ever cheated on her husband, and she had, twice, and so he was like, "And what, I'm a bad guy since I'm open about it?"
Later, this one blonde self-identified actress who would make unasked-for improv-type jokes and comandeer the conversation and was new to poly said she had a hard time getting along with people she met at conventions, since she doesn't read science fiction.
Also later, this one white gay dude around my age with a high voice and a white wifebeater on underneath a white mesh shirt said something about how he didn't understand why everyone talked about feelings, since if you have an open relationship, it's about you and you just go sleep with someone, and he didn't know what they meant, and while he was saying this all the poly people raised their hands up aggressively to pile on and correct him, including the woman next to me.
Since someone said that you always have rules, like you don't sleep in the same bed with one partner as another if the other minds is a common one, by the time they called on the woman next to me, she was like, "Rules are very important; for example, [her partner's name, the lounge guy, I can't remember his name] and I always sleep with other people in the same room, since we like to watch each other."
Like five minutes later, as I had been doing for the past thirty minutes, I thought of her "Hi Steve" thing and started laughing/smirking, so I covered my mouth with my hand as if I was resting my chin. Then, I had a bright idea, and to cover my laughter, I was like, "I can't believe that guy, and it was funny, it was totally like poly death match with everyone trying to correct him," and that struck her as funny and she laughed, so I think I made her think I wasn't laughing at that whole thing with her and Steve.
Later, this one fat white mid-20s girl with big glasses and limp hair who was obviously a gamer/fantasy girl, but wore a short skirt so everyone could see her fat thick legs though no one wanted to, had this interminable comment with no real point (though maybe the point is that she wanted everyone to know that she has sex?) about how she had friends and they're friends, but they like to sleep with each other and they consider themselves polyamorous "but not polyfuckerous", and as the comment was going on, I nudged the woman next to me, who in her earlier comments had established herself and her partner as swingers, which are different from poly people, though they themselves are different from most swingers, since most swingers only sleep once with someone, whereas they form part of a group of four couples who are close friends, "And then it goes out from there," as she would say, holding her hands in front of her and waving her fingers -- so, anyhow, I nudged her and was like, "I think the difference between poly and swingers is that with poly, you have to be self-serious and over-verbal."
"Really," she was like, and she meant it.
So, like a week-and-a-half ago I realized I hadn't been visiting any new neighborhoods/sites in the city lately, and so I decided to look up the hours on a local immigrant settlement house museum, only to discover that they were sponsoring a 2-times-a-month film series about crazy sex topics followed by a discussion group hosted by a local (female) BDSM activist (mostly, as I found out, because back in the late 19th c. they were early advocates of sex ed).
So, since the upcoming movie was on polyamory, I went, even though no one I knew wanted to go, though I sure as heck enjoyed asking practically everyone I know, including mild acquaintances I'd run into on the street.
Beforehand, I stopped at a local diner close by the venue, since I had seen it before when driving in a semi-industrial area; the place was founded in 1939, but now run by Mexicans and staffed by Mexican and black waitresses (the clientele was black, white, and some Mexican), and the menu said, "New - oxtail soup" on it. I had beef stroganoff, and decaf coffee.
In terms of the film and discussion group, I guess a few things were surprising -
1) Very few members of the audience took the movie seriously, since it was about this nerdy anglophone Canadian couple who were living in Montreal -- the husband was thin and kind of Jewish-looking and liked model trains, the woman was squat with big glasses and a wandering eye, both a real one and she looked at other men -- and so since he wasn't interested in polyamory but she was, they decided to make a movie about her quest to love more than one person and how it affected their relationship...
Everyone laughed a bunch, a lot of times at them. Luckily, I sat next to this young 20s black lesbian with a pierced tongue who talked during the movie, like when this woman whose husband was sleeping with the fat Canadian woman confronted her and said something like, "Did you set out to break up our marriage? because that's what you're doing," she actually snapped in front of me and was like, "Sna-ap," loudly.
Another time when the confrontational woman was on the screen, she was like, "She bipolar," and later when it turned out that the woman actually was bipolar, I asked her how she knew that, she was like, "I'm a psych major."
Also, another time when the fat Canadian woman said she wasn't sure if she was polyamorous, she was like, "And I say, I don't want to be black."
2) I didn't realize this, but polyamory is basically a bunch of (ugly) sci-fi, Lord of the Rings-loving nerds who found out they liked to fuck, but lack drama in their life or people who will casually sleep with them, so they make it into this romantic idealist quest to fill up their lives with these 5-hour long conversations between like 3 or 4 people where everyone asks each other if they're okay and if they really mean that they're okay and are they sure etc. before 2 of them go off to fuck. The word itself was coined by a member of the polyamorist Ravenheart clan in the late 70s, and the OED actually called up this one member Morning Glory for a definition a few years ago.
(Because it's a new word, I was thinking they must have calqued it in Spanish as "la muchamoridad", though, as I discovered, it's actually translated as "poliamor".)
Like a bunch of times in the film, the filmmakers went to polyamorist conventions, and it was nothing but (white) skinny guys in black t-shirts with long dirty hair and goatees hugging a couple (white) (ugly) fat women, and there were drum circles too.
So, afterwards there was a discussion group, and since there was this one late 40s woman there with dyed blonde hair and a fake tan and tall black boots and a short skirt, and she was sitting next to her husband/partner/whatever with wavy dyed brown hair and leather lounge shoes and a purple shirt open to show a big medallion on his chest, and there was an open seat next to her, I decided to sit down there.
The (stick thin but somehow blocky) (ugly) BDSM hostess girl started off the discussion, and this dude named Steve over in the corner who looked kind of dorky started off, and it turned out he was from the local polyamory community. Then there was something else someone said, then the woman next to me raised her hand.
"Before I start, I just want to say, 'Hi, Steve'", she was like, and waved to him over in the corner.
He didn't do anything.
"Do you remember me?", she was like, not needily or even that curiously, but just to establish a fact.
He didn't do anything.
He didn't do anything again.
I was in such shock (but somehow I seemed to be the only person to notice this!) that I don't even remember how she then began her comment, but she did, quite normally, knowing that he didn't recognize her not affecting her at all in any way.
Later, this dude with a long ponytail and a leather jacket spoke, and he was a member of the local polyamory community. He used to work for the government at one point and had a picture of himself and his wife and two girlfriends on his desk, and a female coworker got in his face about it once and asked him if his wife knew.
"Of course she does," he was like, "They're her friends, and it's kind of hard to take a picture all together if she doesn't," and he then asked her if she had ever cheated on her husband, and she had, twice, and so he was like, "And what, I'm a bad guy since I'm open about it?"
Later, this one blonde self-identified actress who would make unasked-for improv-type jokes and comandeer the conversation and was new to poly said she had a hard time getting along with people she met at conventions, since she doesn't read science fiction.
Also later, this one white gay dude around my age with a high voice and a white wifebeater on underneath a white mesh shirt said something about how he didn't understand why everyone talked about feelings, since if you have an open relationship, it's about you and you just go sleep with someone, and he didn't know what they meant, and while he was saying this all the poly people raised their hands up aggressively to pile on and correct him, including the woman next to me.
Since someone said that you always have rules, like you don't sleep in the same bed with one partner as another if the other minds is a common one, by the time they called on the woman next to me, she was like, "Rules are very important; for example, [her partner's name, the lounge guy, I can't remember his name] and I always sleep with other people in the same room, since we like to watch each other."
Like five minutes later, as I had been doing for the past thirty minutes, I thought of her "Hi Steve" thing and started laughing/smirking, so I covered my mouth with my hand as if I was resting my chin. Then, I had a bright idea, and to cover my laughter, I was like, "I can't believe that guy, and it was funny, it was totally like poly death match with everyone trying to correct him," and that struck her as funny and she laughed, so I think I made her think I wasn't laughing at that whole thing with her and Steve.
Later, this one fat white mid-20s girl with big glasses and limp hair who was obviously a gamer/fantasy girl, but wore a short skirt so everyone could see her fat thick legs though no one wanted to, had this interminable comment with no real point (though maybe the point is that she wanted everyone to know that she has sex?) about how she had friends and they're friends, but they like to sleep with each other and they consider themselves polyamorous "but not polyfuckerous", and as the comment was going on, I nudged the woman next to me, who in her earlier comments had established herself and her partner as swingers, which are different from poly people, though they themselves are different from most swingers, since most swingers only sleep once with someone, whereas they form part of a group of four couples who are close friends, "And then it goes out from there," as she would say, holding her hands in front of her and waving her fingers -- so, anyhow, I nudged her and was like, "I think the difference between poly and swingers is that with poly, you have to be self-serious and over-verbal."
"Really," she was like, and she meant it.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
2 things.
1) The coffee shop on campus is advertising its new special - a latte with Irish cream, hazelnut, and some other stuff --
"THE IRISH NUT LATTE".
2) Last night I went drinking way too much with my one Dutch friend and two of his Dutch friends. There's these bars here and there in the city that are combo bars and liquor stores that have been grandfathered in under city laws, and we went to a Mexican one yesterday. There was this short, skinny old Mexican bartendress with fried black hair and bright pink lipstick, and she was like four feet tall and smiled in a very grandmotherly way, and she poured us $1.25 PBRs and $3 whiskey-on-the-rocks (in small glasses all the way up to the rim). Every once in a while she would dance to the music on the jukebox (all modern top 40 shit) when no-one was looking, and about 3 drinks in, my friend pointed out how above the cash register there's a photo probably from the mid-60s when she has this long, flowing black hair and is gorgeous, and is at the same bar behind the bar.
"THE IRISH NUT LATTE".
2) Last night I went drinking way too much with my one Dutch friend and two of his Dutch friends. There's these bars here and there in the city that are combo bars and liquor stores that have been grandfathered in under city laws, and we went to a Mexican one yesterday. There was this short, skinny old Mexican bartendress with fried black hair and bright pink lipstick, and she was like four feet tall and smiled in a very grandmotherly way, and she poured us $1.25 PBRs and $3 whiskey-on-the-rocks (in small glasses all the way up to the rim). Every once in a while she would dance to the music on the jukebox (all modern top 40 shit) when no-one was looking, and about 3 drinks in, my friend pointed out how above the cash register there's a photo probably from the mid-60s when she has this long, flowing black hair and is gorgeous, and is at the same bar behind the bar.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
A hint, not from Heloise.
A friend told me about this last week --
Use a regular men's razor for shaving to get fuzzies off a sweater; pull the sweater taut, run the razor over it, and you shave the fuzzies right off!
I've done this twice this week and two of my sweaters are already looking like new.
Use a regular men's razor for shaving to get fuzzies off a sweater; pull the sweater taut, run the razor over it, and you shave the fuzzies right off!
I've done this twice this week and two of my sweaters are already looking like new.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Old e-mail / Pimple.
I forgot, I got this e-mail from my mom almost a week ago under the subject line "At work 'till 8":
Hi Guy!
[Your one friend's mother who smokes a lot and sweeps around the house wearing a muu-muu] says she really enjoyed the book (Mormon, biography?) you recommended to her.
Snow storm starting tonight............10-14 inches of snow and blowing and drifting........yoy, yoy, yoy!
[...]
Love Mom
Also, last night when I was brushing my teeth, I noticed on my lower left forearm a bright pink spot almost like a burn, and then I realize it was a pimple nestled in my arm hair that had so much gunk in it that it raised and reddened a patch around it with like a 3cm diameter, so I went in and popped it, and like about two pinhead's worth of gunky shit burst out and sat on top of where the pimple was, and then when I wiped that away and squeezed some more, a little oil and blood oozed out, and after I wiped that off, like two minutes later a bead of oil and blood was just sitting on top of where the pimple was.
Hi Guy!
[Your one friend's mother who smokes a lot and sweeps around the house wearing a muu-muu] says she really enjoyed the book (Mormon, biography?) you recommended to her.
Snow storm starting tonight............10-14 inches of snow and blowing and drifting........yoy, yoy, yoy!
[...]
Love Mom
Also, last night when I was brushing my teeth, I noticed on my lower left forearm a bright pink spot almost like a burn, and then I realize it was a pimple nestled in my arm hair that had so much gunk in it that it raised and reddened a patch around it with like a 3cm diameter, so I went in and popped it, and like about two pinhead's worth of gunky shit burst out and sat on top of where the pimple was, and then when I wiped that away and squeezed some more, a little oil and blood oozed out, and after I wiped that off, like two minutes later a bead of oil and blood was just sitting on top of where the pimple was.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Addendum.
When we drove out of the movie theater, a (black) guy in a knit cap and a dirty navy blue puffy cloth winter coat at the intersection near the highway was walking back and forth between cars with a cardboard box of kid's socks he was trying to sell. To my friend, I was like, "I wonder where they get that stuff to sell," and she was like, "They probably rip it off the back of trucks when they're unloading."
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Saw "Madea Goes to Jail" Yesterday.
So, yesterday I went with a friend to go see "Madea Goes to Jail". My friend drives, so we went down to far cinema down in the ghetto, to make it a cultural experience. The theater complex is just off the highway amidst a huge mall-type area with a ton of box store and mini-malls, but if you go a few blocks you're in the middle of row houses, so there was a lot of poorer black people either rolling into the place in run-down cars, and some walking in from the overpass by the highway.
The theater complex, by the way, is run by a company called "Inner City Entertainment", and that name is on the building in big letters, and they flash it on the screen before the movie starts.
We got there like ten minutes before the show started - the movie was playing on multiple screens like once every half-hour to forty-five minutes - so my friend dropped me off to wait in line while she went to go park the car, but as soon as I got in line - I was the only non-black person in the entire place, as far as I could see - people up ahead of me were talking about the 3pm show was sold out, and the first one you could get into was 4:30pm, so I asked the (black) woman ahead of me if that was true.
"Yeah," she was like, "There's nothing till 4:30," and then she added, very nicely, "You come a long way?"
My friend then got there, and we waited in line and got our tickets for the 4:30pm show, and then asked another (black) woman if there was anyplace good to wait and get something to eat before the show started, and she gave us directions to a Potbelly's.
My friend, though, was in the mood for pizza, so we went to this deep-dish pizza chain store in the mini-mall fronting the main road, and since you had to buy everything through a window, of course there was no restroom, so I had to hold my pee from drinking too much coffee earlier in the day. We did get deep-dish pizza, though, since the store basically had a pizza-heater and a freezer and they'd take out pre-made pizzas, unwrap them, and throw them in the heater so people could come buy a slice, mostly along with a can of pop in a package special, though when I looked at their selection in the little fridge on the counter, though they had a bunch of weird shit like RC cola and Welch's grape soda and even orange soda, there was absolutely nothing diet.
The cash register behind the window was around the corner out of the line of sight, too, and there was a sign up advertising deep-dish pizza now available with turkey sausage, "Healthy and Delicious"
Anyhow, when we got back to the theater complex, my friend went to go park the car and smoke up so the movie would be funnier, and I went inside to take a piss, and wait in the lobby with all the (black) patrons, including like two older women who looked like Madea herself.
When my friend got in, we went to go to the theater, only to find that they had people in these huge lines so they could let you in ten minutes till showtime, because the place did quick turn-over and didn't let the theaters sit empty between showtime. We were in like one line forever, and then it turns out when we got to the front that it was for theater 6, so we were sent to a different, newly-forming line, along with these enormous (black) women in front of us who had short, spiky, dyed up hair and black leather jackets and Applebottom jeans and were also going to theater 9, and they started complaining that it wasn't right to make people in the front of the line go to the back, and one of them said that the theater usher-kid wasn't doing his job, so she started calling out to everyone, "This line for theater 9" and shit like that, and then her friends started joking that they should start paying her.
The movie itself was good, like 2/3 of it was heavy drama and only 1/3 Madea, so no-one yelled at the screen too much. Interestingly, Madea isn't a church-goer and made a lot of fun of aspects of the black church, like its platitudes, WWJD bracelets, speaking in tongues ("Praise Jesus, shub-a-dub-a-dub-a-dub-a-dub!" she said at one point), etc., and then a lot of celebrities like Dr. Phil and Al Sharpton had cameos in the movie.
In any case, now I have street cred with some black people, I feel, like at the grocery store today, when after I asked the young (black) cashier how her weekend was and she asked me the same and I said I went to go see Madea, she thought that was great, and so did the young (black) bagger and the other young (black) cashier in the next aisle who I know better, and they were greatly amused when I said I loved how Madea just went off on people.
Anyhow, going to see "Madea Goes to Jail" was the highlight of my weekend. That night I got invited to a birthday part in the hipster part of town, and though it turns out that the party was in a storefront art-space with free booze and that one of the three people who the party was being held for was the 538.com kid (never met him), the people were both lame and stand-offish, and there was this screen where Twin Peaks was being projected while the DJ played (? - yet predictable), only the lame hipster kids would occasionally make shadow hand things in front of the camera, and the place was all white except for one Asian girl, one black guy, and two hispanics, one of whom was a professor who was hitting on me and felt very self-conscious when I was like, "How you doing, sir?", when he introduced himself to me and I used my usual "sir"/"ma'am" slang in informal social settings.
Earlier in the night, when I had a beer and nachos at this pricy hipster place that tried to look downscale - I was with the same friend I had gone to the movie with - I actually went off on the waiter, this dumpy white guy with greasy brown hair and tight jeans and a tight blue t-shirt over his little pot-belly; I didn't like him when I ordered a beer and he feigned being sorry and was like, "I am so sorry, but we just ran out of that ten minutes ago," but it was worse when I ordered the nachos and he was like, "Do you want the avocado with that?", and when I asked if it costed extra, he made an involuntary grimace and was like, "Yeah," and so very forcefully, I was like, "No," and when he turned away ashamed to walk away, I was like, "That was very deceptive," and he pretended not to hear me.
Hipsters love money so much, it disgusts me.
The theater complex, by the way, is run by a company called "Inner City Entertainment", and that name is on the building in big letters, and they flash it on the screen before the movie starts.
We got there like ten minutes before the show started - the movie was playing on multiple screens like once every half-hour to forty-five minutes - so my friend dropped me off to wait in line while she went to go park the car, but as soon as I got in line - I was the only non-black person in the entire place, as far as I could see - people up ahead of me were talking about the 3pm show was sold out, and the first one you could get into was 4:30pm, so I asked the (black) woman ahead of me if that was true.
"Yeah," she was like, "There's nothing till 4:30," and then she added, very nicely, "You come a long way?"
My friend then got there, and we waited in line and got our tickets for the 4:30pm show, and then asked another (black) woman if there was anyplace good to wait and get something to eat before the show started, and she gave us directions to a Potbelly's.
My friend, though, was in the mood for pizza, so we went to this deep-dish pizza chain store in the mini-mall fronting the main road, and since you had to buy everything through a window, of course there was no restroom, so I had to hold my pee from drinking too much coffee earlier in the day. We did get deep-dish pizza, though, since the store basically had a pizza-heater and a freezer and they'd take out pre-made pizzas, unwrap them, and throw them in the heater so people could come buy a slice, mostly along with a can of pop in a package special, though when I looked at their selection in the little fridge on the counter, though they had a bunch of weird shit like RC cola and Welch's grape soda and even orange soda, there was absolutely nothing diet.
The cash register behind the window was around the corner out of the line of sight, too, and there was a sign up advertising deep-dish pizza now available with turkey sausage, "Healthy and Delicious"
Anyhow, when we got back to the theater complex, my friend went to go park the car and smoke up so the movie would be funnier, and I went inside to take a piss, and wait in the lobby with all the (black) patrons, including like two older women who looked like Madea herself.
When my friend got in, we went to go to the theater, only to find that they had people in these huge lines so they could let you in ten minutes till showtime, because the place did quick turn-over and didn't let the theaters sit empty between showtime. We were in like one line forever, and then it turns out when we got to the front that it was for theater 6, so we were sent to a different, newly-forming line, along with these enormous (black) women in front of us who had short, spiky, dyed up hair and black leather jackets and Applebottom jeans and were also going to theater 9, and they started complaining that it wasn't right to make people in the front of the line go to the back, and one of them said that the theater usher-kid wasn't doing his job, so she started calling out to everyone, "This line for theater 9" and shit like that, and then her friends started joking that they should start paying her.
The movie itself was good, like 2/3 of it was heavy drama and only 1/3 Madea, so no-one yelled at the screen too much. Interestingly, Madea isn't a church-goer and made a lot of fun of aspects of the black church, like its platitudes, WWJD bracelets, speaking in tongues ("Praise Jesus, shub-a-dub-a-dub-a-dub-a-dub!" she said at one point), etc., and then a lot of celebrities like Dr. Phil and Al Sharpton had cameos in the movie.
In any case, now I have street cred with some black people, I feel, like at the grocery store today, when after I asked the young (black) cashier how her weekend was and she asked me the same and I said I went to go see Madea, she thought that was great, and so did the young (black) bagger and the other young (black) cashier in the next aisle who I know better, and they were greatly amused when I said I loved how Madea just went off on people.
Anyhow, going to see "Madea Goes to Jail" was the highlight of my weekend. That night I got invited to a birthday part in the hipster part of town, and though it turns out that the party was in a storefront art-space with free booze and that one of the three people who the party was being held for was the 538.com kid (never met him), the people were both lame and stand-offish, and there was this screen where Twin Peaks was being projected while the DJ played (? - yet predictable), only the lame hipster kids would occasionally make shadow hand things in front of the camera, and the place was all white except for one Asian girl, one black guy, and two hispanics, one of whom was a professor who was hitting on me and felt very self-conscious when I was like, "How you doing, sir?", when he introduced himself to me and I used my usual "sir"/"ma'am" slang in informal social settings.
Earlier in the night, when I had a beer and nachos at this pricy hipster place that tried to look downscale - I was with the same friend I had gone to the movie with - I actually went off on the waiter, this dumpy white guy with greasy brown hair and tight jeans and a tight blue t-shirt over his little pot-belly; I didn't like him when I ordered a beer and he feigned being sorry and was like, "I am so sorry, but we just ran out of that ten minutes ago," but it was worse when I ordered the nachos and he was like, "Do you want the avocado with that?", and when I asked if it costed extra, he made an involuntary grimace and was like, "Yeah," and so very forcefully, I was like, "No," and when he turned away ashamed to walk away, I was like, "That was very deceptive," and he pretended not to hear me.
Hipsters love money so much, it disgusts me.
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