The other week I was in the pharmacy to get Band-Aids, several bottles of rubbing alcohol, and a few chocolate bars, and when I got through line I was double-checking my bill and noticed that the 2-for-1 discount on the chocolate bars didn't go through.
I asked the cashier, a young (Chinese-American) guy who was very slow at his job, and he said to wait a bit and so I stood off to the side so he could help the line of 4-5 people, but then he was like, "Maybe you should go to the photo desk."
There, a (young) (African-American) woman took care of me, right after she finished with the last customer.
First, I pointed out that in the nearby stand of Doritos, one bag had an 80s throwback logo.
"I haven't seen that shit in years," I was like.
Next, when I said I wasn't sure why the discount didn't go through, since I had punched in my cardmember phone number entry when asked, she was like, "Remember, this is computers that we're dealing with."
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Friday, October 16, 2015
Laundromat happenings...
...b/c I'm there a lot due to the bedbugs:
1) I had convinced my downstairs dudebro stoner neighbor to wash his stuff and begin bedbug proofing his room at a very basic level, and me and him happened to end up in the laundromat at the same time.
I was speaking shitty Spanish with the (Mexican) woman working there, and all of a sudden my downstairs dudebro stoner neighbor just totally starts whipping out the Spanish, and having a fast and meaningful conversation with her.
As it turns out, he's originally from Los Angeles.
I think he got her when he asked her how many kids she had, and when she said "five", he was like, "And how many husbands?".
2) One evening when I was putting my laundry in, my heart leapt b/c a speck fell out onto the white enamel top of the washer, and it was the size of an apple seed, which is the size of a bed bug.
As it turns out, it was an apple seed.
3) The other evening, I was in there, and the one (Mexican) woman I originally became friends with was unhusking a pomegranate into a plastic bowl, and when I came back to get the stuff out of the drier towards the end of the night, she was sitting at the folding table with this big bowl of seeds in front of her, and was slowly eating them.
1) I had convinced my downstairs dudebro stoner neighbor to wash his stuff and begin bedbug proofing his room at a very basic level, and me and him happened to end up in the laundromat at the same time.
I was speaking shitty Spanish with the (Mexican) woman working there, and all of a sudden my downstairs dudebro stoner neighbor just totally starts whipping out the Spanish, and having a fast and meaningful conversation with her.
As it turns out, he's originally from Los Angeles.
I think he got her when he asked her how many kids she had, and when she said "five", he was like, "And how many husbands?".
2) One evening when I was putting my laundry in, my heart leapt b/c a speck fell out onto the white enamel top of the washer, and it was the size of an apple seed, which is the size of a bed bug.
As it turns out, it was an apple seed.
3) The other evening, I was in there, and the one (Mexican) woman I originally became friends with was unhusking a pomegranate into a plastic bowl, and when I came back to get the stuff out of the drier towards the end of the night, she was sitting at the folding table with this big bowl of seeds in front of her, and was slowly eating them.
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Inspiring Fellow Adjunct Testifies...
...at a city council hearing, and says that it's important for "urban women" to invest in themselves and their education, and to realize that there's more that girls can do then "pole dance and date the dope boy on the corner."
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
Memories of a (Balkan) bar from earlier that same night...
Though the bar was actually vestigially (Balkan), but with a (half Balkan) and (half Asian) clientele, because a mixed couple had since bought it and compromised.
At the bar itself was most (Balkan) males in tight t-shirts and necklaces, one of whom was both very macho and ordering sex-on-the-beaches (which phrase he said accented amidst other Slavic words in his order to the bartender), and up in the restaurant area was (Asians) eating.
The menu itself was mostly (Asian) but also has a(n Asian) sandwich and roll thing using (Balkan) kebab meat, and I decided to get the roll thing with (Balkan) kebab meat, since the whole thing was very very unique and you just kind of had to.
As it turns out, the (Balkan) husband of the couple was at home barbecuing like ten years ago and his wife was making those (Asian) rolls, and he insisted that she fire the meat in, though she was aghast at first.
And, they've made them ever since at home, and now in their new business.
"What do you think of this?", I asked the (fit) (blonde) (Balkan) waitress, as I was finishing up the roll thing.
"I don't like it," she was like, and she then explained that she liked the hybrid sandwich thing, but the roll thing was "too much like a salad."
At the bar itself was most (Balkan) males in tight t-shirts and necklaces, one of whom was both very macho and ordering sex-on-the-beaches (which phrase he said accented amidst other Slavic words in his order to the bartender), and up in the restaurant area was (Asians) eating.
The menu itself was mostly (Asian) but also has a(n Asian) sandwich and roll thing using (Balkan) kebab meat, and I decided to get the roll thing with (Balkan) kebab meat, since the whole thing was very very unique and you just kind of had to.
As it turns out, the (Balkan) husband of the couple was at home barbecuing like ten years ago and his wife was making those (Asian) rolls, and he insisted that she fire the meat in, though she was aghast at first.
And, they've made them ever since at home, and now in their new business.
"What do you think of this?", I asked the (fit) (blonde) (Balkan) waitress, as I was finishing up the roll thing.
"I don't like it," she was like, and she then explained that she liked the hybrid sandwich thing, but the roll thing was "too much like a salad."
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Memories of a (Mexican) bar: Shit behind the bar.
So, the other week I was doing mop-up with some bars that had flipped way to the northwest of the city, when I found a new bar, then a bar that had been run by Balkan mafiosi (or so it seemed) but had since gotten a(n Irish) name and a (Mexican) clientele.
An obese hispanic woman was by the DJ board to the left of the pool table when I came in, and I sat down at the relatively full bar, which was made of a soulless formica.
At the bar itself, up to the right of it, was a small plywood piece painted red, with uneven black stick-on letters saying -
NO HAY CREDITO
- that is, "NO CREDIT."
To the immediate right of that sign, was this gigantic crucifix (probably around two feet, at least).
Before I left, I tried to talk in Spanish with the bartendress about the "NO CREDIT" sign, which she affirmed.
"Pero que haceria el Senor?", I was like ("But what would the Lord do?").
Only, I hope I said what I meant, since I'm shaky on contrafactual constructions, let alone the subjunctive.
An obese hispanic woman was by the DJ board to the left of the pool table when I came in, and I sat down at the relatively full bar, which was made of a soulless formica.
At the bar itself, up to the right of it, was a small plywood piece painted red, with uneven black stick-on letters saying -
NO HAY CREDITO
- that is, "NO CREDIT."
To the immediate right of that sign, was this gigantic crucifix (probably around two feet, at least).
Before I left, I tried to talk in Spanish with the bartendress about the "NO CREDIT" sign, which she affirmed.
"Pero que haceria el Senor?", I was like ("But what would the Lord do?").
Only, I hope I said what I meant, since I'm shaky on contrafactual constructions, let alone the subjunctive.
Monday, October 12, 2015
Bicycle gear shifter pube jab.
The other week I was in lowgear downtown and leapt forward on my bike to get off-the-bat at a traffic stop, and as I leaned forward, the lowered gear shifter went directly into the mound of flesh where my pubic hair is, on the right side about an inch above my bits-and-pieces.
Since then, it's become dark purple with yellow around it, which makes a very odd contrast with my pubic hair.
Since then, it's become dark purple with yellow around it, which makes a very odd contrast with my pubic hair.
Sunday, October 11, 2015
Addendum (containing memories of Africa).
Years and years ago, when I was in West Africa in order to visit a friend in the Peace Corps, I went to Mali to do a hiking trip that my friend highly recommended.
The guide Omar is not only Dogon, but also speaks both English and French in a French-speaking country, which means he gets a lot of English-speaking tourists.
I remember that he would do imitation of British people with an imitated British accent.
"Omar," he was like, "Take a picture of me drinking millet beer, so I can show my mum a picture of me drinking millet beer. Couldn't you please, Omar?"
"Doesn't he totally get British people?!", my one friend in the Peace Corps who knew him was like, when we caught up when I finally met up with her on the trip.
Also, I later re-told that story to my one friend from my hometown who runs an integrated women's / domestic violence shelter, and I told her how I find it funny to listen to British people talk among themselves, since they talk about things that Americans would never talk about, mostly concrete inanities from everyday life, as best as I can figure out, giving her a few examples.
"They talk like old people," she was like.
The guide Omar is not only Dogon, but also speaks both English and French in a French-speaking country, which means he gets a lot of English-speaking tourists.
I remember that he would do imitation of British people with an imitated British accent.
"Omar," he was like, "Take a picture of me drinking millet beer, so I can show my mum a picture of me drinking millet beer. Couldn't you please, Omar?"
"Doesn't he totally get British people?!", my one friend in the Peace Corps who knew him was like, when we caught up when I finally met up with her on the trip.
Also, I later re-told that story to my one friend from my hometown who runs an integrated women's / domestic violence shelter, and I told her how I find it funny to listen to British people talk among themselves, since they talk about things that Americans would never talk about, mostly concrete inanities from everyday life, as best as I can figure out, giving her a few examples.
"They talk like old people," she was like.
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