Follow by Email

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

स्टाप

Things I have seen this week-

1.
The most spectacular display of plumber's ass in a decade. The entire ass, underneath the pimpled curve of the cheeks. He was clearly trying to hold it up with a belt, but failing. Still, credit must be given for the effort. I only turned to notice it because I heard him muttering about "somebitch" while he was buying his Winston soft pack in front of me at the convenience store, which reminded me of a funny story my friend Danna told me about a girl she knows who returned home late one night dressed only in a blood covered bra and drunkenly smashed into her dad's car in the driveway. When her dad came out she yelled,"Be quiet! My dad's going to kill me!"
"I am your dad."he said."Whose blood is that?"
"Somebitch." She said and passed out.
I love this girl. So much. If you are out there,Somebitch, I am giving you the shout out from the bottom of my heart.

2.
A display of Christian books in the HEB near my house. Next to "60 Minutes in Heaven", "Who I met in Heaven" and "God's Tips for a Happy Wife" was a book entitled "Patrick Swayze:One Last Dance."
Underneath that was a shelf full of truck sized containers containing a substance called Monster Milk featuring a grey Bladerunner looking fellow with sinister snake eyes, those evil goat eyes where the pupils are just slits. He looks off in the distance, as if contemplating stealing a child like La Chupacabra or enslaving humanity. "Monster Milk" makes me think of a room full of genetically altered freak animals lying on their sides, moaning in misery while a vile thick substance is pumped out of their teats by a futuristic machine. But I think I have too much imagination and not enough psychological stability-so that's just me.
Anyway, I couldn't buy regular cows milk after that, I went with soy. I don't want any liquid that has been "milked" out of anything for a few days.

Jeff and I went out to dinner last week. We sat at the bar next to a 78 year old man while we waited. It was his birthday, so he was drinking whiskey shots. Sweet and charming, he asked us where our new house was located. We told him the general area.
"Isn't that neighborhood full of blacks?" He asked loudly, still grinning cheerfully, utterly unaware that I was looking around frantically to see if anyone had heard him.

"Um, yeah. But that's okay now. It's okay." Because it wasn't really the time and place to make a big It's-not-cool-to-be-racist speech. Anyway, it wouldn't have done any good. I find it embarrassing when old people are racist like that, but it doesn't enrage me as much as when I see it in the younger crowd, unless it's accompanied by meanness or cruelty. It's usually just little off-comments like that.

It's so ingrained in them, it's almost innocent, they really don't know they are saying something totally wrong. Maybe it would bother me more if I was a minority, I don't know.

My grandmother was like that. I remember sending her a picture of my first boyfriend, a sweet,harmless looking skinny little black fellow. Not the big,menacing faux-gansters my friends and I would later run around with, this guy was more akin to Erkel from that show.She called me immediately.

"Honey,"she shouted, her hearing shot,"Cats and Dogs don't mate. It's not natural. Blacks and whites is the same thing. You gots to quit it."
I got mad. I tried to convince her that she was being racist.
"It ain't racist honey. It's just the natural way of things. It's even in the Bible."
"It's not in the Bible!" I shouted.
"Hush up and stop showing your ass." Which means, be quiet and control your temper.

My new neighborhood, although pocketed with beautifully maintained homes, is also threaded through with crack houses and ghetto apartment complexes. I spent much of my childhood in the projects, the actual low income housing food stamp projects, when my mom and I moved out I still spent summers there with my Granny-so the unique brand of boisterous crazy behaviour displayed by poor people doesn't bother me. I enjoy it, actually.

I don't know if it's the fact that a lot of low income people are living so close to the edge of survival that they just don't give a shit(Fuck it, I'm going to Wal Mart in a thong! Who cares anymore?) or if it's an endemic social problem caused by lack of education and little opportunity that keeps people caught in a cycle of desperation that affords them little patience with decorum. Maybe there are just more mentally ill people living in the projects, but when I hang out in ghetto neighborhoods I see beautiful displays of crazy all around me.

Despite the warning from my old friend at the bar, most of the crazy has been acted out for me by white people.

There was the aforementioned exposed ass of the morning. I saw some junkies perched outside 7-11 with a sign that read Fuck You( not good marketing, guys) begging for change while one of them peeled a long thin strip of skin as wide as his hand from his shin. I heard this conversation as two guys rode past our house on their bikes-

"Yeah man bitch was not stopping, she was a FREAK for my shit!"
"You use a rubber?"
"HELL,no!"

While driving with my mom to Target I saw some skinheads standing in the middle of the road giving the finger to a car full of black guys, yelling "WHOOOOOP!"
Another car swerved to avoid them, almost hitting me( totally unnecessary move, by the way. There was room) My mom grabbed the dashboard in terror, as she often does when I am driving. As I rolled down my window to yell "RETARD!" as I often do while I am driving, she grabbed my hand.

"I don't think you should be getting into fights in your new neighborhood, Sunny."
"What are you saying?"

"I'm just saying, you have a tendency to get into stupid arguments with people, and maybe you should rethink that strategy now that you live Crackhead Heights, that's all."

Now I am annoyed at her. She has made me miss my opportunity to inform whoever was driving that car that they suffer from mental retardation.

"Mom. Seriously! Shut up with the advice already!"

"Hey!" she points a finger at me and I hear a familiar note in her voice from long ago.
"Hush up and stop showing your ass."