Sunday November 17 2013

Play Time at China Wok (Nov 17 2013)[i]

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I'm led to protect a friend of mine from the cops, or maybe it's a government agency that's after him. We're running down an alley. Into a warehouse building. He climbs a ladder. The determined agents run inside. I stand in between them.

Me: "He's my friend! If you have questions about him you can ask me!"

One of the agents starts throwing punches. I fight back and with more stamina.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 11:30 a.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

The buttons on one of the business calculators stopped working. I take it apart and try changing the battery. Even with all the troubleshooting the solution doesn't arise. But it magically starts working again after I screw it back together.

Enjoying the soothing powers of Egg Drop Soup and Crunchy Noodles. Peanut Butter French Baguette. Honey Black Tea.

Delivering an order to the Fairfield Inn. I remember this lady from yesterday. Mostly, I remember her blatantly not tipping. The people at the front desk think she's cuckoo and after today I can see why. She refuses to give out her room number over the phone because she's convinced it's tapped and that people will come after her. On the ninth floor I make the exchange.

She opens with, "I must be your worst tipper huh?"

Before I even have time to respond her little dog interrupts. I inquire as to the reason why she won't let us know her room number when she places the order, "You know, you can let us know what room you're in that way I know where to go when I get here. Yeah the lady at the front desk was like, that must be room 908."

I was kind of poking fun here but then she retorts back with a serious look in her eye, "The reason I don't do that is because my mother was brutally murdered in her apartment. They knew where she was..."

Me: "Oh."

"And you just announced my room number in the hallway. Thanks," she says with sarcastic disdain.

I don’t even have time to apologize before she hands me the money and closes the door. I get on the elevator blindsided. Is this woman really crazy? Or is she just stricken with paranoia because of her past? And she stiffed me once again after even admitting to not tipping. What a bitch. In the lobby I tell the lady at the front desk my interaction. She explains further that the woman claims she's under some kind of protection program at Langley and she's a part of some secret service agency. And her father is the founder of Dunkin Donuts. Maybe she is crazy after all.

Fiberful Peanut Butter Chocolate Granola Bar.

Cecily is getting frustrated with Eileen about learning words. So I offer to help teach her. At the table I spend a good 30 minutes off and on using simple explanations. That's all she needed, someone patient enough.


Ana shows up. She plays with the girls while I tend to the phones and the orders. Ling comments how she should cut her hair because it's too long.

Ling: "Your hair. Too long. Alotta trouble."

Riding around with me on deliveries she seems much brighter and happier compared to yesterday's occurrence. She snacks on this chocolate drizzled popcorn she picked up from Trader Joe's. Something I've noticed that I truly admire about her is her constant drive for self-improvement.

I get off work and we go our separate ways. I can tell she wanted to hang out more but I need to recharge alone tonight. But she's always understanding, something else I like about her.

Back home.

Fried Shrimp with Broccoli, Onions, Carrots, and Rice in Garlic Sauce.

Finishing The Hobbit: An Unexpected Adventure (2012).

Chores. Cleaning.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

[i] Image by me.

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