Saturday August 24 2013

Hiroshi Manabe.[i]

Waking up at 11 a.m.

Cinnamon Raisin Bagel with Vegan Cream Cheese. Orange Juice. Zinc (50 mg).

All day shift at China Wok.

Feeling better today, about 87% better than yesterday. Ling gives me some Tiger Balm Oil to rub on my lower tummy for the pain.

Tuna Salad Sandwich with Egg Drop Soup.

Steve, a driver that used to work here years ago, shows up. They've got him working part time shifts now.

"Steve!" I shake his hand. "I thought it was just a rumor but I guess it's true. It's been a long time."

A customer calls and uses some odd form of English, obviously taught to him by the mainstream influences of TV culture. He keeps pronouncing the number 3 like the word tree.

Me: "What's your card number?"

Him: "foh-tree-2-1-2-2-0-0-tree-tree-foh..."


While driving around in the hectic Oceanfront traffic full of tourists just putt'n along in their flashy explorers and chargers I come to an understanding about society that kind of disturbs me. Everyone starts to look the same after a while. It's like a generic filter over my eyes. Even the pretty things become generic. We're just masses...sheep...a race of robots seeking out stimulation and sensations in any way we can, and when we realize we can't have real and genuine experiences we settle for the generic!

It's after 10 o'clock. After delivering an order in my neighborhood I drive by two familiar faces squatting next to the Chanticleer marsh. It's Ana and Leah. I guess they came to the house to meet up with everyone and decided to go for a walk for some girl talk. I put it in reverse and scoop them up taking them with me on the last of my deliveries. I go on a few rants related to the struggles of the day, part of it explaining how a driver shouldn't be overly cautious but also shouldn't be careless.

Ana: "Careless and cautious. That's me!"

At the restaurant. My boss cashes me out. The three of us enjoy dinner at the table.

Tofu with Broccoli, Carrots, Onions, and Rice in Garlic Sauce.

At the house. There's a huge group of people here including James, Will, Ken, Laron, and a few of the Slovakian couch surfers. Phil, Cheongah, Elliott, and Michelle show up. I rush them into my bedroom along with Ana.

Me: "I can't let the toxic air outside my room get in here for too long."

Elliott's antsy and wants to get back to the beach for Foursquare as soon as possible. Phil sets a timer for 20 minutes so we don't get stuck here too long.


20 minutes later we head to the boardwalk on 16th Street. Drawing out the boundaries with chalk. The Foursquare ball we've been using for some time now has lost its original spherical shape and is now an egg shape making its bounce unpredictable. The wind is strong creating another challenge. But it's just good times and noncompetitive fun.

Back home. Decompressing while Ana reads a book in the bed. Eventually I slip in next to her – cuddling – then sleeping.

[i] Hiroshi Manabe.

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