This week was filled with various kinds of craziness, and it was quite enjoyable. I like craziness. I think I will just jump right in.
Friday always has the potential to be crazy, but it can sneak up on me, pop out of no where, or, it can sit next to me on the bus home. The bus ride home is always more exciting, more people, who are more talkative, and there is a far greater probability that one (or more) of those people is interesting. My IPTP for last week was Michael. He sat down next to me after looking around the bus and muttering a curse under his breath at those who did not want to share a seat with him. His feelings about this, as I found out later, well, I will let the man speak for himself. "Man, you paid for one seat, man, if you want 2 seats, you better pay for that **** man!" Michael had a distinct odor, not quite a stench, but not a scent. I can describe it as B.O., with undertones of pot, alcohol, and bad breath.
I wanted to highlight some of Michael's interesting conversation. Among some of Michael's odditys were his dissertation on how "country" Prunedale is, "This place is like some **** out of Twilight Zone or some **** like that man! ******* country man, look out there, what ******* year does that look like?", a rant against someone in the backseat listening to music without headphones "Man, turn that **** down, or get some headphones, that's what they make them for man! ****! I hear that **** enough in my hood, I don't need to hear that on the bus!", angry musings upon our delay at a stop for nearly 20 minutes, "****! What is going on up there?!? When I get off, I'mma ask the driver, 'What the **** was that about man?'" Michael also asked for 2 dollars to ride the bus back to his house (I obliged) and he asked 5 or 6 times where I was getting off. Amazingly enough, my answer was the same every time.
One more funny thing on the bus. There were 3 Japanese girls (women?) on the bus, and each of them had 2 pieces of luggage. They had most of it stowed under seats, or on seats, but one piece was sitting next to a seat, in the aisle. As it would happen, that luggage was across from the rear door, which has 4 steps leading out and down. The first turn the bus went around, that luggage slid right into that door! I did not laugh out loud. I did not feel bad though, since any application of common sense would have forseen such an event.
Saturday was pretty quiet as I remember. We watch Casablanca and the day before we had watched Guys and Dolls. There is something far more elegant about old movies, when the brainstormers were not trying to think of a movie which could bring in people, but think of a movie with a story, that will stay with you after you leave. I would have liked living in the '40s and '50s. Except for the music.
Church on Sunday was good, not remarkable, but good. We rushed home, in order to be on time for a baby shower for one of our neighbors. Silly us. For the first 30 minutes, we were 1 of 2 families that invited that were actually there. Then the other family left, and we were alone, then more people came, and the numbers went up to 10ish. This was an hour after the party "started". I forgot to explain that the host family, and all the guests, were Hispanic, oh, except for us. It would have easy to tell that I was white, because I brought my chess board, and was playing for a while. The party lasted around 8 hours, but we went home after 6, then went back to get some dessert. The food. I had a tamale (pork). It was great! Fresh out, melt-in-your-mouth texture, satisfying flavor, not too hot, but enough to be authentic, great boquet too. That was the first course. The entree was posole, which seems to be the equivilint of hamburgers and hot dogs for Hispanic parties. I have had posole several times, and it has never been the same. Sometimes more spicy, sometimes with a hint of chocolate (very Aztec), sometimes the broth is dark, sometimes light, the meat can be beef, chicken, or pork. Yesterday's was a fairly light broth, not very spicy, with pork as the meat. I like pork. I do not like pork skin, or pork bones. At all. Despite these few negative qualities, the food was great, the one new thing was radish in salsa. Really good. Dessert was fruit salad, with shredded coconut, and lots of some kind of milky liquid that didn't exactly taste like milk, pink jello thing, that almost tasted like tapioca. Good stuff. The two crazy things: it seems like all Hispanic hostess feel the irresitable urge to try to "fatten me up" in just one meal (I weigh 150-something), and every Hispanic event we have showed up to on time has run over by several hours. We cannot get into our heads that showing up on time is pointless, because everyone shows up 1-3 hours late. I think it is hilarious.
Amazingly enough, that is all the craziness I have for now, but I will have more, I can just feel it.
Have a good day!
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