Come back when you can

As I passed a guy on the street he said, "Hey there, Supermodel."
I thought he was talking to me until I heard a voice behind me say, "Thanks."
I looked over my shoulder to scope my compliment competition and saw a middle aged black woman with purple streaks in her graying hair. Her plussed grin revealed a few missing teeth and she was wearing black and white checkered tights.

Half a block later a guy said, "Hey, how are you."
I said, "I'm fine, thanks."
And he said, "You just made my day."

The world makes sense again.

Mad besties (revised)

If when I look for friends,
I find trouble,
does the opposite hold true?
If I look for trouble,
will I find you?

Would you like fries with that?

The old saying goes, "There's no such thing as a stupid question." While I agree with this message for the most part, there is a limit to the number of times I can graciously respond to the same stupid questions in the kingdom of Subway Eat Fresh. Here are some of the questions that I'm talking about:

Customer- How big is the footlong?
What I say- 12 inches, or I show them the roll
What I want to say- See my thumb? Gee you're dumb

Me- Would you like to add a drink to make that a meal?
Customer- Is it cheaper?
What I say- No, it's not numerically cheaper, but if you want a drink, it's a better deal to get the meal.
What I want to say- Oh yeah, Einstein, that's how commerce works, the more of our products you buy the less we charge you. If you're really smart, maybe you can just keep purchasing things until the whole meal is free.

Customer- Are all the footlongs five dollars?
What I say- No, we now offer select footlongs for five dollars, which are shown on this menu here (points genially).
What I want to say- Can you read? If not, I'd be happy to answer this question, if so however, stop being so lazy and use your eyes.

This also goes for "Do yout take diamond dollars?" to which I want to say, "Did you come in through the door? Because there's a sign at eye level saying we do. Use them eyes your momma gave you."

Me- Would you like Banana peppers or jalepenos?
Customer- Are they the same thing?
What I say- No, the banana peppers here (points helpfully) are milder than the jalepenos, which are over here (points again, how accomodating)
What I want to say- Yeah, they are

Customer- Do you take access cards
What I say- Sorry, we don't actually
What I want to say- Seriously?

This next one may seem too stupid to believe, but I swear on the sanctity of this blog that it is a true story...

Customer- (painfully flirting whole way through line and reaches end)
Me- Would you like anything else?
What I want to say- Would you like anything else, perv?
Customer- Your name
Me- What? (nervous laughter)
Customer- What time do you get off work?
Me- I'm here till closing
What I want to say- None of your business, Creep
Customer- What are you doing after work?
Me- I don't know, I have plans with some friends for later.
What I want to say- Go away please
Customer- Well, maybe I can buy you a sandwich sometime
Me/What I want to say (c'mon, I held it together for a long time here)- Are you seriously offering to buy me a sandwich? You're trying to take me on a date to Subway? You realize I work here, right? Get real.


There are so many more, but I'm blanking at the moment. This lack of brain power can only be attributed to one thing: a Friday night closing shift.

Just Keep Smiling

Stargazing. Being greeted by dogs. Getting a just the right phone call from just the right person at just the right time. When you realize you're reading someone's mind, or they're reading yours. Inside jokes. When someone quotes something that you love. When someone recognizes a quote you use. An extraordinary cup of coffee. A compliment. Physical contact. Being reminded that you are loved. Getting a present. The Marx Brothers. A great voice. Being recognized. Mattering to someone. Doing something nice for someone else. Feeling like someone is taking care of you. Getting mail. Sending mail. Finding something you lost, or thought you lost. Warmth. Seeing people who are really in love. Remembering. Sleeping, finally making it to bed after a long day. Feeling accepted and loved by anyone, anywhere. Looking at pictures. Being appreciated. A hug. Hearing a song that brings back happy memories. When a smell reminds you of something, or someone. Knowing just what to do for someone to lighten their load. Realizing that your family is important. Looking at the big picture. Having someone say they'll always be there and then they always are. Flowers. Undying love that overwhelms. Being young. Being alive.

To a self-proclaimed "Fat Asshole"

Today was a rough day, but not as bad as I expected and undoubtably not as bad as tomorrow will be. One year ago today, October 5, Jimmy Krasely, the first friend I made here at Temple died. He is dead- funny how that works. I guess don't really know what this one year mark really means. Of course, I'll always think about him a lot at this time of year, but I think about him a lot all the time. I will say that the year went fast. Here's some of what my journal entry from one year ago today said:

"It feels totally unreal. When Mollie started to tell me I knew what she was going to say when she asked if I'd heard about Jimmy. I asked what she meant even though of course I knew. I didn't know what else to say."

I remember her face so vividly. I hadn't heard anything until she told me, but her face said it all. I didn't really have to ask, and I knew I sounded dumb.

"Jimmy will be okay, he's always doing stupid things, but he's okay. I can just tell him he's stupid and to be more careful and he'll tell me that I'm straight edge."

"I wish I could speak for him. To tell-who? The world? Fate? Death? God?- that they don't need to worry about Jimmy. He doesn't mean anything by it, he's just a kid. He needs a few more chances, but he's okay. He's screwing around, but it's just Jimmy. Get it?!?!?!? That's Jimmy, he can do stupid stuff and be okay, that's who he is! Listen! He'll be okay, he'll figure it out, just be patient with him. Leave him alone. He's too important!"

I'm still overwhelmed when I think about his worth in this world.

"Jimmy was my first real friend in college. I was walking by his room and he called out to me. We talked and he thought I was weird and I loved that finally someone saw me. Someone was really getting to know me. We went to that concert. We went to South Street. I asked him if Mike was a creep or rapist. I sat in the hall and talked about life with him. About infidelity, the future, socialism (a resource based economy). He made everyone laugh. He made me feel like I mattered. Even if I wasn't cool, I still belonged because no one is cool. Even guys like Jimmy who played football and smoked weed and partied and listened to cool music were nerds too."

I remember going up to him and asking him about our friend Mike who I met at the same time as Jimmy. I remember saying, "If you're lying to me and something bad happens to me, you're going to feel really bad, so you better just think about that." God I was lame.

The first day I met Jimmy he said to me, "You're a cynical bitch." And I remember thinking, finally someone here gets me. Someone here cares. That someone was Jimmy.

"It sucks that no matter what I do, we do, he won't know," I wrote. "He won't know what we're all feeling. He won't know how many people go to his funeral or join his facebook groups. He won't know how much he meant to me."

I learned a lot from Jimmy, and still am learning. One thing that sticks out that I learned from losing Jimmy was something Ruth Ost said. She said that when someone dies, everyone feels an ownership on a piece of the grief pie. I think that's true and important. I know that many people were much closer to Jimmy than I was. Many people knew him for longer and knew him better. Jimmy was a unique person because anyone who met him, even briefly, would mourn him greatly. He gave of himself freely.

You remember what that lantern I sent you said, Jimmy? It's still true. (Also, please don't think I'm a bad friend, but that Beatles poster you gave me got wet and ruined. I don't think you'd mind because you thought Ringo was too ugly to look at anyway. I still have part of it. I wish I had our post-it notes.)

Hakuna Matata

Wow, I almost got confused for a second and thought I could pose a question to my blog readers...but then I realized I have no blog readers. The question was going to be, what are some of your mottos or words you live by? I have many, which manifest themselves in various ways at various times or situations in my life. After all, it's all cyclical (there's a good one for ya). I sometimes try to come up with a few overarching ones that I seem to fall back to most often. One is, "Love hard, when there is love to be had." This is one of my most central beliefs.
In wading through my many mantras, I notice the trend towards a "let it be" philosophy. "So it goes," "It is what it is," and the song "What I Got" by Sublime all fall into this category. And yet I wonder, are these words I actively live by, or are they what I strive for? In day to day instances, I feel that I embody this attitude. I feel that I maintain a calm demeanor about most things. I get called into work on my day off, "so it goes." I have to deal with a particularly stupid customer at Subway, "I don't cry when my dog runs away, I don't get angry at the bills I have to pay..." sings its way into my brain.
And yet, there are many things in my life that, try as I might, I cannot approach with such a blase attitude. I want to, but I can't always bring the cool.
In these instances, my twin mottos emerge, with the wise truths of passion and adventure. Here, I can even more readily admit, these words are goals, rather than constants in my life. Things like, "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing," may be what I want, but are certainly not my everyday realities.
Well, it's midnight on the dot, time to check my blog's stats and see that zero people have read this blog "today." And hey, share your mottos, folks!

Inspired by Eminem

They had the dynamic of gasoline and a lit match. They both played both roles well, each in turn. When he was the wallowing, puddle on the floor, she was there- always there- ready to set the fire that would engulf them both. Likewise, when her mood melted into that liquid fuel stage, he had the lighter poised and ready.
It was difficult to say why they did it. Maybe, in some weird way, they enjoyed it; all of it, the smell of burning hair, the sizzling, popping, broiling flesh, their bones incinerating. It has its appeal. Maybe neither of them knew anything else.
People warned them of course, their friends and families.
"Those who play with fire get burned," they'd say.
Does a lit match have ears for the wise words of loved ones?
Does gas give a fuck?