Monday, January 03, 2005


You know sometimes having parents is like having invisible, retarded friends: You can't always prevent them from automobile collisions.

No more than 15 minutes after they left my apartment, the folks called me to say, Oops, another car sort of smashed into them because they ran a red light when icy road conditions made it difficult to break on time.

They're fine but I don't want them sleeping over ever again. My psyche is just way too fragile for their in-law-like behaviour. Freakin' yak, yak, yak. You'd think it was the Tibetan plateau.


"Are you Chinese?"

"Yes ..."

"Do you speak English?"

"Yes ..."

"My friend and I think ... Do you speak English?"

"Yes ..."

"We think you are very beautiful."


"Do you speak English?"

"Born and raised [here.]" LIE

"We'd like to know if ... Are you heading somewhere?"

"I'm sort of going to meet someone."

"Oh, oh. Sorry."

"Well! Nice meeting you. Both of you."

I was smiles all the way to the pub as a hired third wheel for emergency girlfriend services.


No, it's not a potato sack. It's a fashion statement. One that also begs the question: How long does it take to shimmy out of?

No time at all apparently.

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