A reward for wrongdoing...

I was pretty bad...I kept a DVD much longer than I should have. So, I humbly brought the DVD back to a friend, who didn't say a word about its late homecoming. And in return for my wrongdoing, I was treated with the last half of The Crowd, a silent flick by King Vidor. I came in during a very slapstick part, full of happy music and spastic actors--quite similar to every other silent film I've seen. So I ask Juan: "You say this movie goes against the norm of the day? It gets darker than this?" Right about then, a child gets run over by a truck.

I decided to shut up and watch the movie. All aspects of the movie were very well done--the direction, the acting, the writing (at least the parts that showed up on the title screens), and especially the photography. Now I have to see the beginning.

My reward for wrongdoing continued with an episode of G.I. Joe. I thought it would take on a nostalgic feel for me--instead, all the "American Vigilante Justice" versus "Total Psycho Terrorists" (i.e. COBRA, for the uninitiated) took on a darkly hilarious, bordering on sinister, feel. Very strange indeed...and knowing is half the battle.

Yo Joe!

A new month, a new era of brokeness

I just paid my first full month of rent. This has put a lot of things in perspective concerning my finances.

Suddenly cable and CDs have gone down on the priority list.

Things like lettuce and tofu have gone up...way up.

I never thought I could be fulfilled with a fridge full of nutrition and a DVD player full o' nothin'...well, except for someone's gracious loaner. =)

Survival is strangely satisfying.

Three Minutes that say: The World Doesn't Love You Anymore

So I'm just minding my own business a few days ago--getting orders from customers on the salesfloor, going back to the stockroom to get things, walking back to the salesfloor...nothing big--when everything just fell apart...in three minutes.

First, I couldn't find the right type of shelves for a display that a coworker was creating. I wanted to show that I wasn't just the incompetent new guy, that I had a good head on my shoulders. I wanted to do this by finding exactly what she needed and getting it to her in an adequate time frame. This didn't happen. I believe that it was physically impossible. She wanted 12 shelves; we only had 6. I was a little disappointed.

So, I'm carrying my six shelves dejectedly to the store (we have a separate stockroom housed in the parking garage adjacent to the store) when a lady throws open the door of the bank next to our store. She huffs and walks toward the parking garage. I keep my head low, the weight of inadequate shelves pressing my forehead further and further down. The shame. I start to pass the lady...we're almost finished with our impersonal passing--one in which we actually create something physical (a breeze between us, the subtle shift of air pressure) without creating anything personal (even a southern "good day" was eshewed)--when she looks up and says, "Hey you! How old am I?"

I resist the urge to yell "NOT GONNA HAPPEN LADY" and instead turn to her with a smile. Or maybe terror--I wasn't looking at myself at the moment. After countless "uh"s, I finally settle on 38 (she looked 45) and tell her. She brightens up immediately and proceeds to tell me about the insensitive teller inside the bank who apparently thinks that every woman of a certain stature is enlisted in the "Silver Checking" program in which you must be 55 years old or older. I give the appropriate consolation and let her know that everyone used to think I looked older than I was (people asked my major in college when I was 15...early facial hair, I think). She then made the mistake of saying, "Really? That's hard to believe! You couldn't be a day older than 35!"

In the words of Bridget Jones: B*gg*rf*ck*r.

I exhale heavily after she says this, suddenly becoming weak and unable to hold all six shelves at the same time. I can only let out a strained laugh and a "Yeah. Have a nice day" before continuing my stumble towards the store. There's a crack of thunder. Things can't get much worse.

That is, until I smash my finger between two shelves while trying to steady them.

Oh yeah, my key didn't work in the door after that. And then it shut in my face.

Thank God the three minutes were up then. The rest of the day was rather pleasant actually. =)