Monday September 3 2012


☼ ○ ▬

With friends longboarding down a street hill where there happens to be high traffic. I wait for a clear and take my shot. Calum follows behind me. I see a teal-colored truck turn the corner.

“Car!” I warn.

Construction. Dodging the orange cones. I swerve in such a way that I’m forced to nip the truck coming at me. I don’t topple over but continue on my way faster and faster down the hill. I turn left and into a neighborhood. Walking back up I find out Calum also hit a car. Or it seems he’s taking the wrap for me when he tells his story and owes over $3,000 to the driver of the teal-colored truck.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 11:15 a.m.

Two Plumcots.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s extremely slow at work. Most people are cooking out and doing their own thing on Labor Day.

Organizing music on iTunes.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Lemonade.

Anthony texts me a quote for the day...

Your own mind, the mind of the universe, your neighbor’s mind – be prompt to explore them all. Your own, so that you may shape it to justice; the universe’s, that you may recollect what it is you are a part of; your neighbor’s, that you may understand whether it is informed by ignorance or knowledge, and also may recognize that it is kin to your own.” – Marcus Aurelius

Coconut Water.

Delivering an order to a lady on Vintage Court. I used to bring her food all the time. She’s the nicest lady, her and her husband.

Me: “Wow. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Her: “Well, Robert. My husband died so I haven’t been ordering.”

Me: “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.”

Her: “It’s okay I have my friend here with me.”

We make the transaction and I leave.

Me: “Alright. Well I hope to see you again.”

Wow. I’m really sad right now. I can’t imagine what that feels lose your life partner. I’m sure they were prepared in some way considering their age but it’s still a disruptive life experience.

Cadbury Milk Chocolate.

Tips have been blasé shitty but every now and then along come a few select generous ones.

Delivering an order to Fleming Circle, former ground zero of the jet crash that happened months ago. I remember this customer. He’s super nice and always gives me at least a $5 tip. Last time I recall two 20-something gays sitting on his couch and we cracked jokes about the crash. This time he’s alone. He asks me, “So what time do you get off of work?”

Me: “Oh usually 10:30.”

Him: “What are you gonna do?”

Me: “Have a good meal, watch a know, veg out.”

We make the exchange. He pauses to say something, or at least it looks like it.

“What?” I inquire.

He thinks for a few more seconds allowing a slightly awkward silence and then says, “Nevermind.”

Me: “Alright. I appreciate it.”

As I’m driving away I put to thought what he might’ve actually been trying to do, which was to invite me to hang out after work. Was this 40-something year old man making a pass at me? Who knows. Maybe he sensed my heterosexuality and changed his mind; I don’t know. That little bit of silence we shared was kind of strange.

Finally off work.

Chomping down my dinner while I drive to Aysena’s house: Vegetable Pancit Noodles with Almonds and a Raspberry Shock Top Beer.


Up in her bedroom. Uploading more music onto her iPod. I compiled playlists appropriate for particular settings. One when she goes running: ╬ Run Run Run ╬. One when she’s lying on the bed: Ω Romanticism Ω. And one for lovemaking: ♀ Sex Lounge ♂.


She reveals a t-shirt she made for me using cartoonish iron-on graphics. It displays in a cryptic styling, “I HAD BLACK COMEDY WIZ ICE”, an inside joke only her and I can understand.

Me: “Ha-ha-ha. Oh man, this is too cool. Thanks. I love this.” 

Before I came over she requested I bring the mustard t-shirt I wear that has a hole on the right sleeve.

Me: “Why did I bring this to give to you?”

Her: “So I can throw it away!”

Me: “Ha-ha! What?”

Her: “Yes! It’s stressful color.”


I wonder sometimes, if both of us could speak to each other fluently in one language, would I still see her from the same perspective? Would she be the same person to me? Certain qualities to her personality have to be hidden right now. I noticed this as I watch her talk on the phone with one of her best friends in Russian. Her native language brings out her natural attitude.


I half confess/realize something about myself to her, “Sometimes I think I’m too I put too much heart into things. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t. It’d be easier to walk away from things.”


I stand to leave and gaze at her lying on the bed, “You’re just a girl...just girl in the world.”


Her: “Do you remember when we first kissed?”

Me: “Of course.”

Standing up in the room, we reenact the scene to which she remembers the minor details: my nervous reluctance at first, then accepting the gesture. 

Back home.

Ays texts me, “Good night sweeety lots of kisses LOOOOTS till the sky.. Im listening romantic playlist.”

Me: “mmmm. yes lots of kisses. I feel them. you are sweeeet. sweeter than mochi ice cream.”

Poker on my phone.

Sleep 4 a.m.

[i] T-shirt by Aysena.

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