Hello, Dimitri?
1. This afternoon in Walgreen's, two heavy-set women were standing in front of me looking at Mother's Day Cards, and as I tried to squeeze in to browse the selection, these two became increasingly protective of their space. Clearly they were friends, probably worked in the same office together (they had the prerequisite long skirts with the lunch-time tennies), and it was like they had dedicated a whole block of time to crack each other up with silly Hallmark's Cards, and I was the one raining on their parade. Elbows raised, territory expanded, bellies jiggling, these women were frightening. I say this because I didn't have time nor the patience to battle these behemoths, and as a consequence, the card I selected for my mom couldn't have been the best choice. It was Mother's Day themed, though. This I know.
To make the experience complete, the checker sneezed on my change as he was returning it to me. I literally felt moisture on a few of the one-dollar bills, and no matter how hard I washed, no matter how much soap I used, no matter how many Airbournes I popped in the ensuing 6 hours, I swear if this fucker gets me sick, he's in for a world of hurt.
2. The great thing about living on the border of Chinatown is all the cultural experiences at my disposal. There's a little Chinese girl who lives four houses down, and every time she sees me she sneaks behind me, taps me on the back, and runs away giggling. I'm at a point where I just pretend I don't know who did it, which really seems to amuse her, especially when she runs back over and accepts the blame, which is so cute. Sometimes when her friends see me at the bus stop, they say, "Lilly, here comes your boyfriend" and she runs away, embarrassed.
Her brother is cool too. At first he didn't like me because I ran the table at their pingpong tournament, the one at the Rec center around the corner, which pissed off the five 7th graders that challenged me. I came back a week later with pizza and a 2-liter of soda, and now we're all cool, which strategically makes a lot of sense, considering these kids will one day run the streets of Chinatown, and they probably all have older brothers or uncles connected in some way.
The problem, however, with living here is sometimes you get exposed to some nasty shit, and you can't help but groan in disgust. I'm not sure what it is, but older Chinese men feel perfectly compelled to launch a snot rocket at a second's notice, no matter how many people are in their vicinity. They do this with no shame.
I'm sorry, I'm a tolerant person, but as soon as I'm hit with one of those launches, things are going to change.
The other thing is, tonight, as I was walking down Stockton Street, the smell of fish, particularly after several hot days, was just wrong, I mean really wrong, and no matter how extensive their sidewalk washing is at the end of the day, you can't hide that smell. I guess after a while you just get used to it, but for now, it makes me sick.
3. If the Warriors end up losing to the Jazz, I'll still be ecstatic at their run, and the excitement they've brought to these parts. The daily recap with one of my bosses, as well as the chef at Sam's Pizza, and countless other sports fans throughout the Bay, has been infectious, and last night's game was the perfect example of how fun this team is. Even though they lost, even though they blew it with all their missed free throws, I wasn't disgusted. I witnessed a great game, and a touching moment with Derek Fischer - a class act if there ever was one - and we're guaranteed two more, at the very least, and for a basketball fiend like me, that's just beautiful.
4. I just bought Dr. Strangelove at Safeway for nine bucks! Tell me what other city offers Stanley Kubrick masterpieces at the supermarket, for cheaper than a used copy at Amoeba? While I've been typing this, the DVD menu has been looping the audio from the scene where the President calls a drunken Soviet Premier to warn him of the ensuing attack, and for thirty minutes all I've heard is "Uhhhhh, hello, Dimitri?" followed by Russian laughter, over and over, which, come to think of it, would make a great song by Jandek.
To make the experience complete, the checker sneezed on my change as he was returning it to me. I literally felt moisture on a few of the one-dollar bills, and no matter how hard I washed, no matter how much soap I used, no matter how many Airbournes I popped in the ensuing 6 hours, I swear if this fucker gets me sick, he's in for a world of hurt.
2. The great thing about living on the border of Chinatown is all the cultural experiences at my disposal. There's a little Chinese girl who lives four houses down, and every time she sees me she sneaks behind me, taps me on the back, and runs away giggling. I'm at a point where I just pretend I don't know who did it, which really seems to amuse her, especially when she runs back over and accepts the blame, which is so cute. Sometimes when her friends see me at the bus stop, they say, "Lilly, here comes your boyfriend" and she runs away, embarrassed.
Her brother is cool too. At first he didn't like me because I ran the table at their pingpong tournament, the one at the Rec center around the corner, which pissed off the five 7th graders that challenged me. I came back a week later with pizza and a 2-liter of soda, and now we're all cool, which strategically makes a lot of sense, considering these kids will one day run the streets of Chinatown, and they probably all have older brothers or uncles connected in some way.
The problem, however, with living here is sometimes you get exposed to some nasty shit, and you can't help but groan in disgust. I'm not sure what it is, but older Chinese men feel perfectly compelled to launch a snot rocket at a second's notice, no matter how many people are in their vicinity. They do this with no shame.
I'm sorry, I'm a tolerant person, but as soon as I'm hit with one of those launches, things are going to change.
The other thing is, tonight, as I was walking down Stockton Street, the smell of fish, particularly after several hot days, was just wrong, I mean really wrong, and no matter how extensive their sidewalk washing is at the end of the day, you can't hide that smell. I guess after a while you just get used to it, but for now, it makes me sick.
3. If the Warriors end up losing to the Jazz, I'll still be ecstatic at their run, and the excitement they've brought to these parts. The daily recap with one of my bosses, as well as the chef at Sam's Pizza, and countless other sports fans throughout the Bay, has been infectious, and last night's game was the perfect example of how fun this team is. Even though they lost, even though they blew it with all their missed free throws, I wasn't disgusted. I witnessed a great game, and a touching moment with Derek Fischer - a class act if there ever was one - and we're guaranteed two more, at the very least, and for a basketball fiend like me, that's just beautiful.
4. I just bought Dr. Strangelove at Safeway for nine bucks! Tell me what other city offers Stanley Kubrick masterpieces at the supermarket, for cheaper than a used copy at Amoeba? While I've been typing this, the DVD menu has been looping the audio from the scene where the President calls a drunken Soviet Premier to warn him of the ensuing attack, and for thirty minutes all I've heard is "Uhhhhh, hello, Dimitri?" followed by Russian laughter, over and over, which, come to think of it, would make a great song by Jandek.
posted by Rob Simons at 9:13 PM
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