Monday January 7 2013


☼ ○ ▬

Helping a man cut the grass of his front yard with a trimmer – he hasn’t been keeping up with the maintenance. I don’t know why I’m helping him. It just felt right.

▬ ○ ☼

Alarm goes off at 11 a.m.

Strawberries for breakfast.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s been two and a half hours and I’ve only taken one order. I’m just sitting here in this hardly-cushioned chair reading Adbusters magazine infiltrating my mind with doom and gloom of the planet’s future.

When beliefs, aesthetic preferences and moral proclivities are all left to personal style, we have the hipster mentality, where nonchalant nihilism is cool. Indeed, the word ‘moral’ itself is a dirty word amongst anyone outside the realm of conservatism. But the cult of individualism transcends politics: we are all in the cult. We’ve all had its invisible lens pulled over our eyes such that we perceive the world through a warped and myopic tunnel vision. Aiming to find and remove this lens is as futile as trying to bite your own teeth – for it is built into us.

Recalling the last order I took to Harper’s Square. 1288 Corsair. An adorable black girl who doesn’t really tip that great but I was tempted today to spring up my mild affections to her. Sometimes, in situations like this, I run through the conversation in my head, you know, on how it would sound.

[Just as she’s about to close the door I would stop her, “Oh. Wait.” She’d pull the door back and listen. “I’ve delivered to you a lot of times before. I just wanted to say...that...I think you’re pretty cute.” She’d smile and thank me. “Alright. See you later.”]

Egg. Five Guys French Fries with Ketchup. Honey Oolong Tea.

Kenneth drops by.

Me: “Whoa! I haven’t seen you in years. What’s going on?”

Coincidentally I have an order to deliver that’s addressed to 1625 Michigan Avenue, which is right next door to 1623 and also where his mother (and my landlord) used to live (God rest her soul). It’s funny that of all the times he could’ve popped in for a visit over the years he chose today. I chat with him for a little bit. He seems to still have the same agenda as far as collecting and gathering and growing, being his usual street urchin self.

Kenneth: “God bless brotha!”

Cinnamon Chip Scone.

This shift just drags on. I’m glued to the chair playing poker on my phone and reading. Cecily and Ling teach me some Chinese characters for items on the menu. I’m hoping to learn how to write up orders in Chinese eventually.

Hot and Sour Soup with Rice and Broccoli.

This day can easily go down in history as one of the slowest days I’ve ever worked. Only 15 orders and about 60% less than I usually make in tips.

Back home. Anthony, Kelley, and Kevin are enjoying the locally filmed classic Psycho Kickboxer (1997) downstairs. I join them for a little bit while I stretch and exercise.

Chocolate Chip Cookies with Milk.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

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