I was in San Diego for the weekend and found myself in Old Town for a quick sightseeing tour. My friend and I stepped into a relic of a building that was once (we're told) a thriving stable. As we turned a corner we came upon a young family - the father was carrying a baby and said to the mother, "I think the baby is hungry." Not knowing we were behind them (I dunno, we were hidden by a pile of wagon wheels or something) she replied in a creepy tone while doing some showcasing circular motion around her right breast, "Yea, it's Miller time."
On a recent flight an actor sat one seat up and across the aisle from me. I recognized him instantly because he is a character in one of my favorite shows - The Office. I have no idea his name but on the sitcom he plays Creed, 60's/70's drug addled leftover who's asides to the audience are always conspiracy theories in nature. He usually only has one or two lines (often none) and he is quite funny. We locked eyes a few times and I was tempted to tell him that I enjoy his work but I opted to leave him in peace. After we were in the air he pulled out his video iPod and began to watch something that made him chuckle a few times. I was curious to see what he would be enjoying and leaned over to get a quick peak. Yep, sure enough - - - The Office.
The other day I went to The Grove to see the Clint Eastwood directed and Angelina Jolie starrer, Changeling. It was a Wednesday and to avoid anything remotely resembling a crowd I went to the first showing of the morning - which still ran me $9.75, which I found to be unreal. I walked up to the ticket-taker who was probably 18 years-old busying herself tapping out a text message. She torn my stub and mumbled something at me. I was going to walk off but the sting of $9.75 was still fresh and I felt like I paid for something audible and annunciated so I calmly asked, "What did you just say?" She restated, "Theater 10, down the hall on your right." I thanked her and walked to the concession stand because popcorn sounded about right. I ordered a medium popcorn and a soda which also came to $9.75. Suddenly this movie had cost me $19.50. The two kids running the snack bar were also about 18 and so not into working - at all. While the gal was fishing out my change I sampled the popcorn. It was cold. I asked her, "You know, this popcorn is cold. Do you think I could get another bag?" The guy doing the popping swung around and barked, "I just made that, sir." I took another bite and dissatisfied I said, "I'm afraid it simply it isn't warm at all. In fact, it's cold." He walked over and tasted it for himself and after a good chewing he said, "Tastes fine to me." I was amazed and said, "No it doesn't," then I addressed the girl, "You try it." She said harshly, "I don't want that." While all this went on another batch had been popping so the guy refilled my bag. I thanked him and began the walk to theater 10. Halfway there I took a bite of the popcorn and once again it was cold. There was a gentleman in his 40's in the hall taking notes so I assumed he worked there and asked him, "Are you the manager?" He replied, "No, I work for corporate. Can I help you?" I explained that I had just paid $6 for a bag of popcorn and that twice the product given to me was cold. He said, "Come with me, we'll get you a refund." I apologized and then said, "Thanks for walking with me, those kids working the counter just look at me like I'm retarded." He said, "Yea, they look at me like I'm retarded too."
A couple of years ago my neighbor sub-leased her apartment because her job sent her to New York City. She's back. The rental manager replaced her carpet before all her stuff was shipped out - it's an off-white carpet - we both wondered why on earth they would choose an impossible off-white carpet. But whatever. She was at work yesterday when her 20 boxes showed up in a massive 18-wheeler. My neighbor had a friend waiting for them but she needed to run down to the hardware store to get some plastic to protect the off-whitecarpet. While she was gone I heard the one of the movers open her door and I ran out just before he was about to go in and walk all over her off-white carpet with his dirty work boots. I yelled, "Hey, do go in there with those shoes." He grimmaced and said, "I need to use the toilet." I offered generously, "Well, you can use mine." I don't have off-whitecarpet. While he used my bathroom I stayed outside and chatted with his partner. An uncorfortable ten minutes passed before his partner addressed what we were both thinking, "I thought he was just gonna pee!" With my toilet you need to hold the handle down so that everything will flush - but if you don't know that then there is a potential for embarrassment. When I was a lad in school we referred to then as 'sea biscuits'. From outside we could hear the guy flush the toilet about five times though we both pretended not to notice. Finally he gave up and came outside to ask, "My friend, do you got a plunger?"
I generally get two types of text messages - either it's a friend with a question or a need. Or, more commonly, Bill, Joe, Michael or any number of others will text me with some social commentary which usually leads to a fun back-and-forth text conversation. How on earth I lived without this technology as a teenager... Anyway, I was having my mid-afternoon siesta when my cell phone alerted me to an incoming text message. I thought about ignoring it and getting back to sleep but the pull of curiosity was way too strong. Sure enough it was a vital text from Joe, "@ Target with cart full of throw pillows. How gay is that?" I smiled as my thumbs sailed across the typepad composing my reply, "Bitch, that is big grrrrrrrrrl gay."
I have a friend going to grad school in Mississippi from Brazil. He is in his second year at Ole Miss and when it comes to American phrases or slang he is like a sponge soaking them all up and then throwing them out there advantageously. Sometimes he messes up his opportunity thinking that a phrase means something other than it's intended meaning or he will misinterpret some slang, which can be quite funny. Then other day we were chatting on the phone about something silly and he used the chance to squeeze in something he had just picked up; he laughed, "Hey, don't get your penis in a wad." It caught me off guard and I feigned shock, "What did you just say?" He knew the way that I asked meant that he said something wrong - he got a little embarrassed and replied, "Oh, nothing what-so-ever." I corrected him, "I believe you meant to say, panties. The phrase is, don't get your panties in a wad." We enjoyed a hearty laugh.
Girlfriend really enjoys her walks and I usually take her out for one every afternoon for about an hour. She is very comfortable when she comes across other pups and just loves our swing through the West Hollywood park because she really soaks up the love from her adoring toddlers. She will wander over and sniff out just about anybody - no not like her daddy! The other day we were walking down Santa Monica Boulevard and there was a homeless woman sitting on the sidewalk eating some chicken off of the bone. Girlfriend, who knows no prejudge, ran over to say hi to her - nevermind the chicken, my girl is in it for the attention. The lady took a bite from her drumstick then set it down and licked her fingers so that she could pet Girlfriend. After a few seconds she looked up at me and kind of growled through her chewing, "Hey, I'll give ya one hun-erd dollahs fer yer dog." I laughed and then joked, "Bitch, you ain't got no one hundred dollahs!" I pulled on Girlfriend's leash and as we walked away she called after us, "Ok, one hun-erd and ten, but that there's my final offer."