Sticky Beak
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The Skinny
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...life in small Northern towns, working for assholes, boys who refuse to become men, synthetic personalities, anorexic models and their link to emotional scarring, bad marijuana trips, crazies on BC Transit, beer, piece of shit cars, living out of a suitcase paycheck to paycheck, unrequited love, Seinfeld, minimum-wage jobs, broken New Year�s resolutions, and over-limit Visa accounts.
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Rolling Out the Red Carpet... Royalty arrived in L.A. today via flight #797 from Vancouver, BC. So fabulous to have Ryan here in the 'big city' with us - very surreal that a person can leave his 2 bedroom cabin in Rural Redneck county at 2:30 one morning, and be sipping beers by 6pm later that day after a fun afternoon of driving lost around the scarier parts of LA, Target, Carl's Jr., and frolicking in the waves. What a crazy world, huh?
We stopped in at Target (or Tar-jayy as Luba calls it) on the way home from the airport... Kris needed to buy a new PS2 controller so that he could then 'return' his old one which recently crapped out. What a guy - always scheming. After we clawed our way out of that swirling vortex/time warp (you can go in and lose 3 hours in a blink - as well as a couple hundred dollars, if you're not careful...) we stopped off at Carl's Jr. for a bite to eat. Yummy's been chirping about their jalepeno burgers for a couple weeks now, and we were hungry, so VOILA! Ask and you shall receive. Unless of course you ask to use the loo at Carl's Jr., which is a possibility only if you're in possession of a quarter, apparently. We couldn't believe it! There - in the land of the free, home of the brave, superpower of the world, a nation built upon equality and brotherhood - for the first time on North American soil, I saw a pay toilet.
That is, of course, until we realized that the pay-lock wasn't actually in use and all we had to do was pull on the handle in order to open the door... Kris had only tried turning the handle... Yup. Good thing he didn't charge up to the counter and demand that they come and unlock it for him, like he had indicated he would if the occasion arose (so to speak). We had this epiphany when a pre-teen boy - probably 11 or 12 - walked up, opened the door and sauntered in to the washroom 'hallway'. Kris then decided that he would wash his hands, after the greasy, juicy burger that he'd just inhaled leaked all over him (something he wasn't willing to pay 25 cents for). He returned immediately, and about 5 minutes later, the pre-teen boy exited the washroom area and walked past our table singing "la la la la la la laaaaa!" at the top of his lungs. Oh-kayyyy. We all had a good laugh, and then Kris pipes up with, "Yeah..., I was kinda wondering about that kid because when I went in there to wash my hands, the bathroom was like, open, so there was a urinal on one wall by the sink and a toilet over on the other side and this kid was just sitting there on the toilet taking a shit, singing 'la la la la laaa' and looking at me blankly..." We lost it. First off, what the hell??? Did the kid realize that he could lock the door in order to take his dump in peace??? What's with the singing??? But mainly, what the HELL took Kris so long to tell us??? Why didn't he share this with us right when he came out of the loo???? Hysterical. This washroom story led me to sharing my experience in the burger joint my cousin Jenny used to work at in Idaho... This place, called "Fat Burger" (which is just wrong!wrong!wrong!), had the worst washrooms I've ever encountered. Women, unlike men, are not used to having to urinate infront of one another. We enjoy our privacy. So you can understand, then, the level of horror I felt when I went into that washroom and saw 3 stalls, all with swinging saloon-style doors with a good 1" gap where the doors should have met. What the...? These "doors" were only about 3 feet long, too, so not only were your legs exposed to outside viewers from the calf down, but anyone walking past could easily peer over the top to find you squatting. Not that it mattered much, admittedly, since there was that 1" gap situated squarely in front of you. What an odd set up. Ryan figured it was to accommodate the 'fatties' that ate at 'Fat Burger'... "This way they can just (beep, beep, beep!) back in to the stall through the swinging doors and not have to fart around with trying to squeeze themselves in.." Kris concurred, adding that "Patrons of Fat Burger should be given a free shoe-horn with every meal!" At least I won't be lonely in hell... Ryan's wit was bountiful today... we got onto the topic of Damian, and he gave me a gentle ribbing about the whole thing. My 'computer' boyfriend, Ryan called him; "Yeah, well... I hope it works out for you, Hol. And then when you guys are shacked up, living in Vancouver, you can sit in seperate rooms on your computers and talk to each other..." This was followed by an "AH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!" giggle. He was very impressed with himself on that one. Admittedly, it was pretty good... I giggled too. What's life if you can't laugh at yourself???? So now that Ryan's here, that means poor Jess is toughing it out alone in Burns Lake as the single parent of a hyper-active 5 year old and a 2 month old baby with a nasty (apparently smelly) ear infection. Poor thing. Ryan talked to her tonight and felt pretty bad, what with Jess nearly in tears on the other end of the line. Yeah, that lasted about 3 minutes... until we went to the beach and he and Kris played in the waves like a couple of little kids. Funny how some things never change, huh? I look at the two of them and I still see them as the adorable, obnoxious little trouble-makers that they were as kids... We're gonna have some shits and giggles while he's here... shits and giggles. GIDDY-UP! |