Who you gonna call?
I needed to buy a gift for a baby shower. Immediately I thought of Shin to help me out, given his expertise in the area. I "dialed" his number.
"Hi Shin. Whatryou doing?"
"Playing games on my computer."
"Oh," pause, "Whatryou doing later?"
"I don’t know. What are you thinking?"
"You wanna go to Babies R Us?"
Then there was cheering the size of a football stadium. Even those of you who know this newly bald Asian hero may not know that his real job is to assist ladies, particularly the aggressors with fast shopping carts, in their quest for the perfect baby shower gift. He’s got the eye, that diaper gleam. Just like I’m a prostitute on the side.
So we went to Babies R Us in the Sunday afternoon. The store was white, the store was pink. A lady at the registry counter, who spoke primarily Spanish, "explained" (sounds muddle in my ears) to me how the list worked and where I could and couldn’t find the items on the list. After ten minutes of my pretending full comprehension, I went away certain only that the aisles and sections were numbered. Pink circles, white numbers. The place was white, the place was pink. Heaven in corporate-world, not heaven otherwise.
We set off with our yellow handout containing the list of items we could and couldn’t buy, uncertain what most of these items were, and equally uncertain where they were--Shin in his black stocking cap, which he later rolled down onto his bald head like a condom, and I in my red cape. I came away with a plastic alphabet, each letter on a ring, and a soft elephant rattle. Then we went to Toys R Us and bought candy. I couldn't have done it alone. Or, I could have but I might still be crouched in the corner touching pillows.
Music today:
Orbital—Orbital 2
Fugazi—13 Songs
"Hi Shin. Whatryou doing?"
"Playing games on my computer."
"Oh," pause, "Whatryou doing later?"
"I don’t know. What are you thinking?"
"You wanna go to Babies R Us?"
Then there was cheering the size of a football stadium. Even those of you who know this newly bald Asian hero may not know that his real job is to assist ladies, particularly the aggressors with fast shopping carts, in their quest for the perfect baby shower gift. He’s got the eye, that diaper gleam. Just like I’m a prostitute on the side.
So we went to Babies R Us in the Sunday afternoon. The store was white, the store was pink. A lady at the registry counter, who spoke primarily Spanish, "explained" (sounds muddle in my ears) to me how the list worked and where I could and couldn’t find the items on the list. After ten minutes of my pretending full comprehension, I went away certain only that the aisles and sections were numbered. Pink circles, white numbers. The place was white, the place was pink. Heaven in corporate-world, not heaven otherwise.
We set off with our yellow handout containing the list of items we could and couldn’t buy, uncertain what most of these items were, and equally uncertain where they were--Shin in his black stocking cap, which he later rolled down onto his bald head like a condom, and I in my red cape. I came away with a plastic alphabet, each letter on a ring, and a soft elephant rattle. Then we went to Toys R Us and bought candy. I couldn't have done it alone. Or, I could have but I might still be crouched in the corner touching pillows.
Music today:
Orbital—Orbital 2
Fugazi—13 Songs
Celebrate anachronism!
2 Comments:
Whoa! The coincidence of both you and I writing baby-shower related items on the same day, and yet not a single Fuddrucker's tale in sight!
Ok! I admit it--I have only one cape. I'm only one superhero, worth nothing really...
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