a little family time, mixed with skill and coordination

you ask anyone how their thanksgiving was, the answer is almost always, "ok". there may be varying inflations of that "ok" depending on who you ask, or you may even get the liars that say "good!".

you're not fooling us.

thanksgiving is the beginning of the holiday season, and the first time (in probably a while) the entire family gets together for an extended period of time. you have the cook, who is stressed the f out trying not only to get everything done on time - but everything to delicious perfection (this job is usually combined with the host, so add the pressure making sure your house is spotless before the family arrives). you have the complainer, who is never satisfied ("is it done yet?", "these potatoes are too salty", "the turkey is under-cooked", etc.). you have that one family member who is just a little too blunt ("every year, you look a little thicker", "no man yet? you're not getting any younger. in fact, i see some gray hairs", etc.). you have the kids running around screaming, you have the person in the kitchen taste-testing and munching on everything before time to eat, you have the picky eater who you have to cook something completely inconvenient for - the list goes on.

i am one of those fortunate enough to have two thanksgivings to go to come that third thursday in november.

on our way from one thanksgiving to the other, my sister and i take our little cousin home.

[well. not that little. he's 14. a few months ago at a family function, my aunt took notice that he was now as tall as me while we were standing next to each other in the buffet line. disbelieving (i mean i'm 5' 8.5" and this kid is 8 years my junior), i turn to face him and looked him dead in the eyes. little to say, it kind of freaked me out. i used to babysit this kid.]

my aunt and uncle were not quite ready to leave the thanksgiving festivites, and the misery was evident all over the poor guy's face. he is at the stage in his early teen years where you aren't a kid any more - but you sure as hell aren't an adult - and being with your family is an awkward, miserable torture.

so we took him home.

on the way home my sister and i each grab a road beer (obviously not a good idea, or a great influence on our young cousin - but the day called for it. especially since it was only half way over.). my sister and i get pretty giddy around each other sometimes. when you love someone as much as we love each other, and you are so comfortable with them that you feel more yourself when you're with each other..... well, you just kind of loose it. we apologize and try to explain this to my - probably frightened now - cousin in the back seat.

"i was with this person everyday of my life for eighteen years!!" i say to him. it's still amazing to me when i think about that and how long of a time it is. we briefly reflect on when we were finally separated when going to different colleges.

"well, besides that time you went to camp," i say to my sister. "then i got a week vacation from you. ...i never went to camp." i turn to my cousin, "did you ever go to camp?"

my cousin shakes his head no.

"yeah. everyone always has camp stories and talks about how much fun it was. and now i'm too old. i feel like i missed out on something, like something is missing in my life."

my sister opens her beer and takes a sip. "this tastes like shit," she says.

"it's probably old. who knows how longs it's been in that fridge." my other aunt, who always hosts thanksgiving, is a huge hoarder. and that's an understatement.

"throw it out." she says. when we hit bluff road, with the bluffs to our left and fields to our right, i roll down my window. as we pass a sign i chuck the bottle. in slow motion i watch as it floats, spinning top over bottom, to the metal pole of the sign where is hits dead center and smashes.

"holy shit." i say.

"did you hit that?? i heard it smash," my sister says.

"yeah. i can't believe it. i've never actually done that. i always try to hit those and always miss. that was awesome...." i say. "....i am actually going to tell people that i did that." my cousin is laughing now, but probably thankful he is almost home.

i'm silent, still in shock of my own skill and coordination. "....kind of makes up for not going to camp..."

@ thxgiving. you can see my cousin - trying to hide how thrilled he is to be in this pic - and me and sister on the end :)

also, this is what happens when my uncle decides to deep fry a turkey--

petrified.

ghetto-pon

so i don't know if you guys know, but there's this website called groupon.com..... just kidding, i know you cool cats are with it. you probably use it more than i do.

...cheap asses (but who isn't these days?).

anyway, i had been keeping my eye out for a dry cleaning deal - as winter is quickly approaching and my winter coat could use a little washy wash. [i'm also keeping my eye out for a good laser hair removal deal, but that will be different blog... or maybe not]. finally, the day came when my inbox presented to me the daily deals: 68% off an hour long massage, 55% off hair salon services, $10 for $17 at your local grease joint, 42% off of a good time with Candy (....just kidding - this is groupon, not craigslist), $10 for $20 worth of dry cleaning, with free pick-up and drop-off.

winner, winner, chicken dinner.

the place was just off south grand a few miles from my house. a few weeks after i bought the deal, i call up there. no answer. hmmm. since it's just a few miles down grand, i decide to just drive up there and drop my stuff off. as i'm driving there, i realize - a lot changes in a few miles.

when i get there, the place looks similar to this. only smaller.

shit.

besides the sign with the business' name, there was a board over every surface of this little building. it is so boarded up that i'm not even sure how to get into it. i'm not sure what is a door and what isn't.

well. i already paid $10 for this...

there is a car parked out front as i approach the building and try to find anything that looks like a door knob. as i start to go to pull on what i think might be a door, a woman exits from another side of the building and goes to the car.

"front door is over here," she tells me.

"ok.." and i go towards her direction and see a pull handle hidden between a break in the wood.

"we're remodeling," she tells me, probably because the look on my face tells her i'm about to run. i walk into a 4x4 ft room that leads to a window with a man behind it. it is dark as the only light is shining through a small window to his left. does this place have electric? there is clothing in clear bags hanging up behind him.

"i, uh.... bought a groupon," i tell him, handing him my coat. "it's for $20, but i didn't know how much it would cost to get this cleaned."

he takes the coat, looks at it and says,"8 or 9 bucks."

"oh, well, can i bring in another coat, then? or something else to get cleaned?"

"well you're supposed to bring in $20 dollars worth of clothing at the same time."

"oh... so.. there's nothing you can do?"

after some persuasion, i get him to allow me to bring in another coat when i come to pick up the one i'm dropping off now.

"we'll work something out," he tells me. as i go to leave the small building, he rushes out,"don't slam the door! it is heavy and will slam down!"

"ok..." i say as i slowly close the piece of plywood with a pull handle, watching him disappear behind it. why, because if it slams the whole house will fall down? as i walk away i make a mental note: research places before you buy their groupon deal.

about an hour later i get a phone call from the dry cleaning place. a woman explains that she saw a missed call and was calling the number back.

"oh, i called earlier to see if you were open - but i already dropped my stuff off," i explain.

"oh, ok! i just saw a missed call and wanted to make sure! we were busy and it gets loud back here with all the fans!" she says cheerfully. i just think to myself...where are you in that little shack? because it was not loud in there. and i'm pretty sure if i looked further into the window i could view the entire building.

when i go to pick my coat up, i take kylie with me. not because i'm afraid, but i'm afraid.

"holy shit," she says when we pull up, despite my warning on our way there.

"yeah..." i reply. same thing i thought when i first saw it.

it's the same man behind the window counter. i exchange him my dirty coat for my now clean coat, reminding him of our little deal. he smiles when i express my thankfulness of his rule breaking.

when kylie and i leave, i forget to tell her to not slam the door. it slams. hard. the sound of the slap was loud to us on the outside, so i can only imagine the echo it made inside that little building.

"ohhhh, man!!!" i hear the man behind the window call out.

"sorry!" i yell back at the building, figuring he had to hear me through the plywood.

as we get in my car and start to drive away, kylie yells for me to stop. and then i see the man besides my drivers side window.

"i told you not to slam the door!" he exclaims. "and now you almost ran over my toes!!" despite him trying to be angry, i see a smile in his eyes.

"i'm sorry!" i say, trying not to laugh from the shock of him coming out to scold me. he walks back to the little shack door, and we drive away.

"...that was messed up." i say.

"i think he's really sad in there," kylie says in sympathy.

"who wouldn't be?"

"he just wants someone to talk to."

"...i'm glad i didn't use the free pick-up and drop-off. i'm not sure i want anyone working there knowing where i live."

Timon vs Pumba

i've been asked out by men before. and i've been asked out by more than one man in-relatively-the same time frame before. [does that happen to anyone else? all of a sudden guys remember you at the same time and they all call you at the same time? ...like, am i ovulating or something?)

but never at the exact. same. time.

as i said in the previous blog, i had been spending a lot of time at the stadium the past few weeks... and here's where i introduce Timon and Pumba. and i refer to them as such because... well, they couldn't be more opposite-except that they are both cooks. timon is a soft-spoken (yet aggressive), giving, sensitive type of man that has facial hair resembling a genie. he is african american. Pumba is a grungy, outgoing, bearded man. a man's man. he is also probably 300 pounds. both of them i had spent time talking with. both of them are good people. yet at the same time, both of them i would not really be interested in pursuing more than a friendship with.

one night at work, i'm restraining myself from dancing around the room and singing along with the band they had hired for a gala put on by the cardinals.

"gahhhh!" i say throwing my arms out in frustration. "i just want to party!"

"well maybe we should go out and do that sometime.." says Timon.

"...yeah...maybe..." i say in a voice that was less than optimistic and walk/dance in the other direction. hopefully that got the hint across.... i say in my head.

it didn't.

they next day at work, Timon helps me find some frozen food in the cooler and asks me if i thought about his question from the previous night.

"uh.. about going out?"

"yeah," he replies.

"uh.. no, not really." i say back. hey, it was the truth.

"well, think about it." he says.

"ok..." as i stand there not knowing what the hell i'm going to say the next time he asks.

meanwhile, pumba is actually taking time to talk to me, learn about me, and have more than just small-talk conversations. and i gotta say, i like the guy. he's a cool dude. Timon and i have only ever had little side conversations in the kitchen. needless to say, i don't know very much about Timon-or vice versa.

later that night, it just so happens that Timon AND Pumba are scheduled to the same carving station for the post-party we were working. before we open, i go up and talk to both of them. Timon starts to inquire again, obviously not shy in front of Pumba.

"so what are you doing this weekend?" he asks. oh no...

"well i'm working now then i'll probably just go home..." i reply.

"what about saturday? can i take you out saturday?"

"uh... tomorrow i'm... going to a concert...." i pull out of my ass.

"well, can i get your number," Timon says at the same exact time as--

"--well, i'm taking her to brunch on sunday, man, so.." Pumba interrupts.

at this point, i'm not sure what's happening-but i know it's not good. i have to get out of hereeeeee!!!

"uh... yeah," i start. "well, i'll let you two talk about this." and i practically run to my bar.

the next time i see Timon, is the next series of games the following week. and he's even more persistent.

"hey," he follows me out of the kitchen. cornered. f.

"i have to get your number," he says. oh?

"oh really?" i say, matter-of-factly.

"yeah," he says.

"and why is that?"

"'cause i want to take you out," he says sheepishly. i'll admit. it was kind of cute. but no.

"i don't know...." i start, hoping that i don't have to finish. i just keep staring at him, waiting for him to catch on. but he continues to follow me. "....you're not... going to let this go... are you...?"

"i'm just walking this way to go eat," he says.

"oh, ok," i say.

"....well, you working the party later?" i ask, not wanting to end things awkwardly.

"yep."

"i'll see you then," i say, and keep walking.

later on the same day, i see Pumba. i go over to him, glad to just talk and feel normal.

"so did you give (Timon) your number?" he asks.

"uh...yeah, no," i say as he laughs. "God, he asked me again today, too!"

"yeah the other day he was mad at me when i interrupted and he was trying to ask you out."

"really?"

"yeah he said, 'she's a shy girl, man, you can't be doing that.' and i was like, 'dude. that girl is not shy.' A shy girl doesn't walk into the kitchen and go, 'Yo! YO!'" Pumba says.

now i'm laughing. yeah... i guess i do do that...

"but," he continues," you should take my number. that way if you want to hang out you can call me. and there's no pressure for you to give me your number."

i smile. i like this. so much better than creepy Timon harassing me. "ok," i say.

later in the kitchen Pumba stops me, "here's that business card i was talking about." and he winks. when i look at it after i get home, the card not only has his number, but is a free drink coupon to a well-known bar in soulard. smooth.... very smooth....

;)