Your Mr. Right is in Outer Mongolia
September 16th, 2007"Some of my female friends are so stupid."
I laughed. "Why do you say that dude?"
He sat up in his chair. "Because some of them have such unrealistic expectations."
"Some of my female friends are so stupid."
I laughed. "Why do you say that dude?"
He sat up in his chair. "Because some of them have such unrealistic expectations."
"I think I know why people cheat."
"Oh?" I looked up from my lunch. "Do tell."
Jimmy cleared his throat. "Okay, here it goes."
"What's the most significant thing you've gotten out of this trip?" Masako asked.
I scratched my chin. "Hmmm." There was so much. It was my first trip ever to Hong Kong and Tokyo; heck, it was my first trip ever to Asia. I struggled to find the right answer. Unfortunately, the first answer I gave her was a lie.
"What would you rather spend your money on: a nice car or a nice apartment?"
"Hmmm," she murmured. "A nice apartment. Definitely."
I wrinkled my brow. "Really? I would totally spend it on a nice car."
"Yea, that's 'cause you're a guy. Guys would rather spend money on a car than an apartment. But girls are all about making their homes look nice."
Brrrrrring! Brrrrrring!
"Hey Jane. It's John. I haven't heard from you in a while. Call when you get this message, okay?"
Brrrrrring! Brrrrrring!
"Hi John. I'm sorry I missed your call before. I've been, um, preoccupied lately. Look, we need to talk. Please give me a call back. Bye."
Brrrrrring! Brrrrrring!
"Hey Jane. Looks like we're playing phone tag. You're it! Ha ha. Yea, I agree, we need to talk. Are you mad at me? It's been almost a month now since we've seen each other. Look, if I did something that night that pissed you off, please let me know. Oh, and you left your pantyhose here. Anyways, call me back."
"You know what I hate? Flakers."
Tim nodded. "Oh man, me too."
"I thought people in New York were flaky. But damn, there are some flaky people in California." I shook my head and stared at my beer.
There are Pale Ales on the table. The lighting is dim. A chilly draft brings in much-needed fresh air. The other patrons provide gentle murmurs for ambiance.
"What really gets me," Ken says as he grips his beer tightly, "is that she can say one thing, and then do something else."
"We all have a purpose here. It's up to us to discover what it is."
I leaned back to catch more of the conversation. The somber cafe music gave their subject a serious tone, like they were discussing the fate of the world.
"There are a lot of people in the world," said a younger voice. "How can they all have a purpose?"
"White meat only."
- L. Spencer
"I'm trying to get with a white chick right now," Tim declared.
"Oh yea?" I raised an eyebrow. "How's that going?" I leaned back in my seat while keeping one hand on the steering wheel.
"Remember that song that made you cry?" asked my Mom.
"Yea, I think so." I scratched my cheek. "It was some song by Chicago."
"No, it wasn't. It was a song called 'Honey.' Let's find it."
"Find it? Why? You want to make me cry right now?"