Chapter 12: Sushi Slumping

I really love sushi, or maybe I should say, “Japanese food.” I don’t want all the hardcore sushi fans to get upset because I’m actually referring to the cut rolls and sashimi, and not actual “sushi.” I think I could eat it everyday if it weren’t so expensive. I usually go to this place by my house. I’m so lucky to have a great sushi spot nearby. I don’t know what I’d do if I had to drive across town just to eat some sushi. I’d do it, but I wouldn’t like it. Anyway, I went this past weekend with Craigory. I took him up on his offer to go see a movie. I really wanted to see, The Town, so I figured what the heck and I called him up. He was a little hesitant to eat sushi though. “Did you get sick or something?” I asked. He let out a deep sigh, “Nah, nothing like that,” he said. “We can go somewhere else, if you want?” I really didn’t want to though, I was in the mood for sushi. Plus I like to show off the spot by my house. I enjoy hearing people tell me it’s a great spot because it makes me feel like I know what I’m talking about. “I’ve just been in a sushi slump lately,” he sighed again. “I think my grip is off or something because the last few times I’ve used chopsticks, my food has fallen on the floor, and the last time it even fell into my soy sauce and splashed onto my shirt.” He sounded so disappointed. “It makes me feel like an amateur, when I really am somewhat of a sushi connoisseur. I don’t know what’s wrong.” I felt like I was supposed to cheer him up or something. I’ve never heard of someone having a sushi slump, but I totally understood where he was coming from. I wouldn’t want to eat with chopsticks either if I couldn’t hold on to my food. I’d probably break up with a girl if she didn’t know how to use chopsticks. I mean at first I’d think it was cute and I’d teach her how to hold them, but if after the first few times she still wasn’t gettin’ it, I’d dump her for sure. Or maybe I just wouldn’t take her to the spot by my house. You never want to be the one who brings someone that doesn’t know how to use chopsticks. I’d feel like I was disrespecting the chefs or something. And you’d never be able to take her to a fine dining restaurant. That’s like going to one of those elegant dinner parties and not knowing the difference between the dinner fork and salad fork. I sure don’t, so that’s why you won’t see me at one of those dinner parties. “What about using a fork?” I said. I was just testing him. Any self respecting man wouldn’t use a fork, only kids can get away with that. So I was happy when he burst out saying, “No way! A grown man should never use a fork when their supposed to use chopsticks. Unless they have arthritis or something. No let’s go. I’m feeling it now.”

He picked me up at 6:45. Good to know he was on time. When we got to the sushi spot, the host new my name, “He-rro Stan-riel, nice to see you,” close enough. The chefs yelled out that greeting they do when people walk in. I always wonder what they are saying. I know it’s probably something like, “Welcome!” but you never know. If I was them, I’d probably be yelling out all kinds of stuff to make the day go by faster. The host sat us down next to two Indian guys with really thick accents, and I could barely understand what they were talking about. I always wonder if it’s even harder for them to understand each other since they both have thick accents. I was about to ask Craigory what he thought, but he looked like he was meditating. He was really trying to get into the zone for those chopsticks. I pulled mine apart and started sharpening them against each other. Craigory still had his head down and he was talking to himself. I think he was praying. Then all of a sudden he pulled a black kit out from nowhere and placed it on the table in front of him. He opened it up and took out a small piece of gymnastics chalk. What the fuck was he doing? He started rubbing the chalk on his hand in the areas where the chopsticks would go. He placed the chalk back inside the kit and pulled out a little red pouch. He opened it up and pulled out some bright-red chopsticks. “Those are some nice sticks,” I said. I think I might have interrupted him because he reacted like I was breaking his concentration. “They’re titanium. Two-point-four ounces.” I looked around, but luckily no one was watching. By the time our food came, I was pretty intimidated. I watched as he reached out and grabbed a California Roll. He had excellent technique. Then he started doing some tricks. No wonder he had dropped a few on the floor. “You gonna eat?” he asked. To be honest, I was kinda scared to pick one up because he was so good. I had lost my confidence and was now very self-conscious of my technique. I reached out and picked up a piece, but my grip was off and it fell back onto my plate. I smiled nervously, “kinda slippery.” I made another attempt, and quickly put the roll in my mouth before it had a chance to fall. He tried some weird trick where he moved the sticks back and forth while still able to balance the roll. There was no way I was going to be able to eat in peace. I should have made a comment about playing with his food, but the waiter complimented his technique and told another waiter to come watch. Luckily, during his next trick, it fell back onto his plate. He slammed his fist onto the table in frustration, but I was happy that he dropped it because it gave me my confidence back and I was able to finish my meal with no problem.

Chapter 11: My New Friend

I hate that people think I’m cheap, when I’m really just good with money. I have a firm opinion on what I think something is worth, and if it’s not, I don’t want to pay more for it. It’s really that simple.

The other night, I went out to a co-workers dinner party at some bourgie restaurant with dim lights and no prices on the menu. Like I’m really going to order something without knowing how much it cost. The waitress had the nerve to look at me strangely when I asked her the prices on a few of the items. It’s similar to the look they give you when you tell them you’re fine drinking water and don’t order any wine. If a waitress gives me that look when I order water, I mentally deduct from their tip. To me, they are insinuating that their tip is more important than hospitality. But if they knew that the manner in which I tip has nothing to do with the price of the meal, then perhaps they’d act differently.

I really hate that there is some unwritten rule saying the tip is based on the price of the meal. If I order a beer, the waitress walks to the bar, gets my beer, and walks back. If I order a bottle of wine, she does the same thing. But now, magically I’m supposed to give her 3 times the amount of tip for doing the same exact job? Not gonna happen! The tip should have nothing to do with the price. It is a sign of gratitude. A thank you for the extra effort they put in to make my dinning experience more special. A server’s job is to serve food, and that’s what they get the minimum wage for. If they want a tip they better do more than bring my food to the table. At the dinner party, there were 15 of us, so they automatically add in the gratuity. I can understand why they do that, but I hate how that basically gives the waitress the opportunity to do a shitty job and still get a huge tip. When the check came, the co-worker that was in charge of the dinner was either too lazy, or too stupid to divide our meals properly into what we ordered, and instead wanted to divide the total by 15. Now here is where everyone thinks I’m cheap because I argued that my meal was only 13 bucks. I didn’t order wine and appetizers like a lot of people. And it’s not fair that I have to pick up the tab for the ones that did. If we divided the check into 15 people, I’d be paying 45 dollars. I hate when people order appetizers like it’s for the whole table and then expect it to be split between everyone, when they ate 75 percent of it. I think it’s a slick way of getting someone else to pay for part of your meal. I only grabbed one piece of popcorn shrimp and all of a sudden I’m supposed to pay 5 bucks for it? That’s why most of the time when they offer me some, I just say no, so there’s no funny business when the check comes. So as I was arguing my point, it sort of created a scene. “Quit your whining, I’ll pay for you if it’s that big a deal!” I nearly punched him in the face when he said that. Him paying for me, or whether I could afford it wasn’t the point. “No! That’s not the point! The point is that you guys ordered wine, and all sorts of extra crap, when I only ordered one thing! I shouldn’t have to pay more because you sat there drinking wine and eating lobster. If anything you should pay more because your meal was like eighty bucks.” “Ya he’s right! You did order lobster!” I looked to the side and someone had agreed with me. “If I woulda known we were splittin’ it like this, I’da ordered lobster too!” Soon everyone started arguing, and all the ones that ordered more than 45 dollars worth of food were in favor of dividing it into 15. Then I did the coolest thing ever! I took a twenty dollar bill out from my wallet and tossed it on the table like I was fed up. “I don’t have time for this nonsense. You guys figure it out!” Everyone stopped arguing and watched as I walked away. “Ya me either!” Someone had followed my lead.

I picked up a toothpick on the way out. As I walked to my car, I could hear someone running up from behind. “Hey Staniel! Wait up!” I turned around, and it was Craigory from accounting. “That was real cool in there. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t want everyone to think I was cheap.” I was still feeling really cool, so I flicked the toothpick onto the street like I had more important things to take care of. “It’s a dog-eat-dog world man, you gotta stick up for yourself!” I had no idea what I was saying at this point. “Ya you’re right,” he said. “What’s your name, man?” I already knew his name, but I was really high up on my horse at that point. “Craigory. Remember?” “Yea, yea. Right.” There was an awkward silence so I opened my car door. “Hey you like watching movies?” I turned around and looked him up and down before responding. Did I just make a friend? “Yea, I like movies.” “Well I can get free tickets at the Laemmle, if you ever wanna go?” I gave him another once-over. “Sounds good. I’ll let you know when I think there’s something out worth seeing.” I turned back around and got into my car. “Catch ya later.” I really wish I could have sped off at that point, because it seemed like the perfect opportunity, but my car doesn’t have great acceleration. I must have came off as the coolest guy in the world because he stood in the middle of the street and watched me drive away. Maybe I’ll let him know that there is a movie coming out that I want to see. But like I told you before, going to the movies with me isn’t the best idea, so that could be the beginning and the end of our friendship. I really felt like a hero that night. I don’t need super powers to save the day.

Tags: cheap, comdey, comic, dinner, funny, humor, I hate Superman, restaurant, tips, waitress

Chapter 10: My New Cell Phone

The other day my cell phone broke, so I had to go buy a new one. I hadn’t been into a cell phone store in quite some time because I’ve been perfectly content with the one I’ve had for the last 10 years. I walked inside the store and looked around. They had hundreds of phones with so many damn buttons on them. A salesman approached me and asked if I needed any help. He was a young kid. A “Ginger,” with glasses and a mustache. Would I sound redundant by saying he had a whole bunch of freckles on his face? Or is it a given that Gingers have freckles on their faces? Anyway, I told him I wanted a very simple phone, with not too many buttons, and that I only use a phone for making calls. He proceeded to show me a phone and started telling me about all its cool features. I had to stop him in the middle of his sales pitch. I don’t think he’d know how to sell me a phone unless he could tell me his sales pitch. I think he had it memorized because he didn’t know how to start a new sentence unless he continued from where I interrupted him. “I don’t need wi-fi or a hundred mega pixels on the camera. I just want to make phone calls.” Since I’m so used to people looking at me funny, I’m pretty good at interpreting the expressions on their faces. He didn’t understand, and resorted back to his sales pitch. “…with Bluetooth capabilities…” I grabbed the phone and showed it to him. “I don’t want all this stuff! I probably wouldn’t be able to sleep at night because I’d be afraid my phone would turn into a robot and kill me, alright? I want it simple.” I took my old phone out from my pocket. “I want something like this. See. Not this. But this.” I felt bad for having to treat him like he was stupid, but he just couldn’t seem to grasp the fact that I wasn’t interested in the latest technology. He looked at my phone as if it belonged in the Smithsonian and told me they “don’t carry anything like that.” I think his boss noticed I was getting a little frustrated because he came over and asked if everything was okay. I gave him the same schpiel I gave the kid and then showed the boss my phone. He started laughing and said he hadn’t “seen one of those in a while.” The boss called over his assistant manager to take a look at it, and they seemed to get a kick out of it. Am I the only one that always feels like they’re in the twilight zone? And no, I’m not referring to being surrounded by a bunch of fucking vampires. Team Edward! Fucking idiots. I would want Edward to get her though, and not Jake. I’m embarrassed that I even know their names. I hate this culture. Anyway, my phone really isn’t that old. It’s not like the Zack Morris phone, which by the way, I think they should bring that back, because I’d totally buy it if they did. My phone is that old rectangular, Nokia that everybody used to have. But apparently I’m now the only one. Lois used to always try and get me to upgrade my cell phone. Whenever I answered my phone in public, she’d walk away. At first I thought she was being nice and giving me some privacy while I was talking. But one time we got into a huge argument because I realized she wasn’t being polite, but that she was really just embarrassed to be seen with me while I was using it. She was one of those consumers that always had to have the latest gadget. I remember one time she made me camp out with her overnight in order to be one of the first to have some stupid, new, I don’t even remember what it was. Can you believe that? And they say I’m weird! Anyway, this story is getting too damn long and frustrating. I ended up leaving the store and paying some guy to fix my broken one. I probably could have bought a phone that could cook me dinner for the price I paid to fix my old one because they had to bring in some expert mechanic and order a discontinued part. But I like my phone and being the only one that has it. It was funny though, when I picked up my fixed phone, I had to take the bus home because this happened when I didn’t have my car, so on the bus I started to pretend that my phone had a touch screen. I was pressing away, pretending I could zoom in on the screen, I was getting a real kick out of it. Then some old lady sat down next to me and saw what I was doing. She smiled and said, “Is that one of those new iphones I’ve been hearing so much about?” I didn’t want to have to explain why I was pretending to use my phone as a touch screen, so I lied. “Ya, it’s great!” She smiled again. “Must be nice.” Maybe the next woman I date should be older, so that way she won’t care what my phone looks like.

Tags: bluetooth, cell phones, comedy, comic, funny, humor, I hate Superman, iphone, Nokia, salesman, technology, wi-fi

Chapter 9: Sandals and Toes

I had to take the bus this week because my car was in the shop. I must have just missed it, because I waited 16 minutes and according to the schedule, that’s how often it comes. There were a few people waiting at the bus stop with me. One was a chubby guy with a ponytail. Not a good look for him. Or anyone for that matter. A grown man shouldn’t be wearing a ponytail. Especially with sandals! He had some leather sandals with a buckle on them. Kinda like Birkenstock sandals. Not that I would ever know what Birkenstock sandals look like on my own, but this one time, Lois tried to get me to wear sandals, and I agreed to check out Birkenstocks just to get her off my case. I tried explaining to her that I think sandals are feminine and I’d never wear them unless I was at a swimming pool.   At least he didn’t have on the ones that have that little thong that goes between the big toe and the one next to it. I always want to call that toe the middle one, because if I was to ever flick someone off with my foot, it feels like that would be the toe to do it with, not the actual one in the middle. Maybe that’s because the big toe feels more like an index finger and not a thumb. Anyway, so the chubby guy didn’t have on thong sandals, but the guy next to me did. At first I thought it was a girl because when he walked up to the bus stop, you could hear him coming because those sandals make so much noise. That flapping sound thong sandals make annoys the shit out of me. So like I said, when he sat next to me, I thought it was going to be a woman, but when I peeked down at his feet, that was how I knew it was a man. That’s another reason I hate sandals on men. Somebody needs to send out a memo that if you don’t have nice toes, or take care of your feet, don’t wear sandals. It’s gross. Nobody wants to see your long, uncut toenails and dry feet. I thought sandals were meant to show off your feet. Lois would only wear sandals after a pedicure. I always liked that about her. She took care of her feet. But somewhere along the way, lazy people started wearing them. The ones who are too lazy to do laundry and wear fresh socks, or too lazy to put on their shoes. Or too cheap to buy some real shoes. The cheapest sandals are always the ones that make the most noise when you walk. That’s how you can tell someone is broke. When the factories make sandals, they should conduct tests and try not to make ones that go above a certain decibel level when you walk in them. So the bus finally came and when I got on, the woman in front of me spent about a minute trying to find 75 cents in her purse. You would think that she’d have that all figured out before the bus came. What an idiot. I sat next to a pretty woman with long legs and some sandal worthy feet. I would’ve ranked her feet higher, but she had some island toes. I know it’s not her fault and I hate judging someone on something they can’t do anything about, but I guess I’d be stating the obvious by saying I have a foot fetish. So I’m picky about toes. Now don’t get me wrong when I say island toes. I’m not referring to someone that has jacked up feet and looks like they live on an island. I’m not that mean. I’m referring to the way the skin on her toes surrounds the nail, and how the tiny bit of nail never goes past the skin. So it looks like a little island. But those aren’t my least favorite. Okay, actually they are, but they are pretty rare. The more common toes I dislike are the kind where the toe next to the big toe is the longest one. I feel as though toes should gradually scale down after the big one. That’s how Lois’ toes were. She and I shared the same opinion when it came to feet. We used to make fun of people together. I miss that about her.

Tags: birkenstock, comedy, feet, funny, humor, I hate Superman, lazy, pedicure, Sandals, Superman, thong, toes, ugly

Chapter 8: The Ticket Stub

I tried going out on a date recently, but I really should’ve known better than to take her to the movies. Not because movies aren’t exactly the best place to go on a first date, but because they’re not exactly the best place to go with me. But this is all according to the people I go with. Or used to go with, when I had friends. I think what I do is perfectly normal to the average movie lover. I think there is nothing wrong with wanting to get there a tad bit earlier than the previews start in order to get good seats. Why pay twelve bucks to get stuck in one of the aisle seats and have to watch the screen from an angle? Especially if you take a date! I paid $36.50, which included her ticket, 2 sodas, some nachos and a large popcorn.  Is it ironic that I love movies, but hate popcorn? Who made popcorn the food of choice during a movie? It’s too loud and I can’t eat it without getting the kernels stuck in my teeth. Then for the rest of the movie I’m trying to get the kernel out from between my teeth and can’t focus on the movie.

I told her to be ready by 7 o’clock. The movie started at 8:15 but it was the weekend of its release, so I anticipated it being sold out and wanted to get there before a huge line started. I called her when I was outside and she didn’t answer. Not a good start. I called again. She answered. “Hey come up. I’ll buzz you in.” That meant she wasn’t ready. Luckily she looked good when she answered the door. If she was ugly, I’d have had no patience for her. That was also why I spent $36.50, otherwise she’d be paying for her own popcorn. Girls think I’m cheap, but if I am, it’s because they’re ugly. Did I mention this was a blind date? That’s why I didn’t know whether she was cute or not, and by cute I mean fat. I saw a picture of her on her profile, but I’m always hesitant to write them if they only have up pictures of their face. But her face was pretty, so I sent her the same message I send everyone else. “Hi. I’m not sure what I have to say in order to get you to write me back, but lets pretend I said it. Hope to hear from you.” Then I copy and paste that same message to about 20 other girls that look pretty in their pictures and see if they respond.

So like I said, she looked pretty, but that still didn’t stop me from wanting to get to the movie on time. “How much longer?” I looked at my watch. It was 7:08. “I just have to brush my teeth and we can go.” Not bad, but hopefully she’s not one of those people that brush their teeth for 5 minutes. Normally that’s a great thing. I love white teeth. But in this case it isn’t, and she wasn’t. She brushed her teeth for 1 minute and 43 seconds. By the time we got to my car, it was 7:14. I opened the door for her, only because it was the one closest to me as we approached my car. If her door was on the other side, I wouldn’t have spent the extra 20 seconds to open it for her. I’ll let her think I’m a gentleman. I once heard that a gentleman is really just a patient wolf. I like that. But I’m not really a wolf. I really don’t care. This is just helping me to forget about Lois and the man of steel for the night.

When I go to the movies, I like to keep my ticket stub. And normally, since I go by myself, I’d remember to “pre-fold” my ticket ahead of time, in order to get a nice, clean tare when the ticket guy hands me the stub. I have a collection. But I was so wrapped up in my conversation of why I think Kim Kardashian and Reggie Bush will never get back together, that I forgot to pre-fold them. The second I handed the tickets to the guy, I cringed, realizing what I had done. “Wait!” But it was too late, he handed me back the stub and it said “CEPTION, 15PM.” I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to have to do this in front of her. Or anyone for that matter. “Is there anyway I can get another stub?” I asked, but he didn’t understand. “I want one that isn’t ripped like this. You see how I can’t read it?” My date was looking at me like I was crazy. “Sir, you’re holding up the line.” I would’ve asked the people behind me for theirs, but now they were in front of me, and I really needed to focus on getting a good seat. We ended up getting some seats mid-center. Not bad. I asked the person to my left if I could trade ticket stubs with him, but his ticket wasn’t mint condition either. The person behind me didn’t even have their stub. How can you lose it that fast? Then my date wanted to get something to eat, and that’s when I spent the rest of the $36.50. When I got back, she was no longer in the middle and was sitting in the aisle. “Why did you move?! We had great seats!” She pointed to our seats. “That tall guy sat in front of me and I wouldn’t have been able to see.” “Are you serious?” Now I really regretted buying her that popcorn. I looked around. There was a seat in the center, but only one. I walked over and asked if it was taken. It wasn’t. I took a deep breath and handed my date her popcorn and soda. “I’ll see you after the movie.”

When the movie was over, she wasn’t even there. I didn’t care. I looked in the empty isles to see if anyone dropped their ticket stub. I found one! A perfectly mint ticket stub, and on the floor no less. That just goes to show I should have gone to the movies by myself anyway.

Tags: blind date, Christopher Nolan, comedy, funny, humor, Inception, Movies, popcorn, Superman, Ticket stub

Chapter 7: The Stakeout

If there is a God, sometimes I think he’s miserable and wants some company.  Maybe he’s bipolar, and Heaven is what he created out of happiness, and Hell is his dark side. Perhaps it’s because Karma has it out for me, but like I tried explaining to my therapist, I really don’t think what I do is that bad. He says I’m not making much progress because I’m still in denial and have to start expressing my anger verbally instead of all my “passive aggressive” behavior. So I guess I should explain why it feels like Karma is chasing me like Pepe Le Pew.

Alright, so maybe, the day I wrote about seeing Lois at the coffee shop wasn’t as random as I made it out to be. I wasn’t stalking her. I was on a stakeout. Just because I’m not a detective doesn’t mean I can’t be on a stakeout. So the coffee shop is right by her apartment. My stakeout began 18 hours and 7 red bull’s prior to my need for a Vanilla Latte. I could no longer handle the medicinal taste, so I briefly left my post. As I was leaving, Lois walked inside. “Damnit! That’s what happens when you leave your post,” I thought to myself.  So I quickly hid behind a rack of Guatemalan, non-roasted coffee beans. She left, and my stakeout continued unscathed. As I said before, I watched her butt jiggle in the spandex as she crossed the street, but her newly fit body wasn’t the real reason I squeezed my coffee cup, spilling it all over my shirt. It was because she was carrying two cups of coffee. He was there! Just as I suspected. I wasn’t stalking Lois, I mean, on a stakeout watching Lois. I was waiting for the man in spandex who seems to have sparked an influence on Lois’ wardrobe these days. Ever since he stole her from me, I have developed a new hobby. Most attempts are unsuccessful, because it’s very difficult to hurt someone who is invincible. So I’m left with trying to make his life miserable any way I can, but it seems that in doing so, I am paying my own price for it.

Tags: coffee shop, comedy, funny, humor, lois, red bull, redbull, spandex, stakeout, stalking, Superman, vanilla latte

Chapter 6: The Bookstore

I had to cancel my therapy session this week. Instead I was forced to rush myself to the dentist.  I made the mistake of trying to kill some time before my session by walking into the bookstore that Lois and I used to frequent. When we were together, I’d see it and smile, thinking of her. But now I can’t help but grit my teeth in anger whenever I pass by. I don’t know why I felt the urge to go inside, especially since I had practically been avoiding that place ever since we broke up. Maybe I was testing myself. I felt a  wave of deja vu run through my body when I heard that chime their door makes every time someone enters. I clinched my jaw and grit my teeth so hard that I cracked one of my molar’s. “Ah fuck!” I covered my mouth and walked back out. So I guess technically I still haven’t been inside since we broke up. I hate that place anyway. I only pretended to like it because she loved it. It would always piss me off how people would be in there sitting on the floor reading books and blocking the aisles. I remember one time I asked Lois for some gum and somebody “shushed” me. I turned around, “Excuse me?” The person reading looked up at me and told me to quiet down. “This isn’t a fucking library!” I yelled back. Lois pulled me away with an embarrassed look on her face. She probably thought I was overreacting, but my anger was already built up from all the previous times I was shushed in a bookstore. Especially that one. She never stuck up for me. Just like the time Mr. Spandex tried to steal my falafel.

-A missed therapy session because I didn’t cancel within 24 hours: $150

-A new crown in my mouth: $547.38

-Getting over your ex-girlfriend: Fuck you Lois!

Tags: bookstore, comedy, funny, humor, laugh, lois, molar, spuerman, tooth

Chapter 5: The Birthday Gift

 

I went to go visit my sister for a few days this past week. It was my nephews birthday. His dad isn’t really in the picture, so I’m pretty much the male role model in his life. My sister said he wanted a Superman action figure, but for obvious reasons there was a conflict of interest for me to buy that for him. So I got him a different one, that was pretty damn expensive. Four hundred and thirty-nine bucks to be exact. But I was willing to spend the money since it was a personalized caricature of yours truly. They didn’t get my hair right though. Instead of a buzz cut, it looks more like an afro. But since they made my muscles look huge, I didn’t ask for a refund. When my nephew opened the present, he didn’t look very happy. I had to convince him that his action figure is way cooler than any other one on the market. The next day when he came home from school I asked him if he showed it off to all his friends. He said he did and then pulled it out from his backpack. My jaw nearly hit the floor when it wasn’t the one that I bought him. Instead it was a Superman action figure. I started freaking out! “Where’s the one I bought you?” I panicked. “I traded it,” he said as he flew superman onto my lap. “You what?” I politely removed the caped crusader from my knee. “I like this one better,” he said. “No, no. You don’t. Where is the one I bought you?” Superman was now standing on my shoulder, looking inside my ear. “Kenny has it.” “Kenny? Who’s Kenny?” I ended up getting Kenny’s phone number from the school directory and called his house, but there was no answer. So I drove over there.

When I knocked, an Asian woman answered the door. “Hi, sorry to bother you. My nephew goes to school with Kenny.” I was distracted by the bag of chips in her hand. Not by the fact she was eating Doritos, but what she was eating them with. Chopsticks. Is it just me or is that weird? Maybe she didn’t want to get the orange stuff on her fingers. “It seems as though my nephew traded Kenny a toy today at school…I was hoping I could get it back.” She swallowed. “Kenny grounded.” Maybe she misunderstood me. “I just want the toy back. The one he traded with my nephew.” “It dry off.” She took another bite placing an entire chip into her mouth. “Excuse me?…I don’t understand.” She pointed to a clothesline in her back yard from which the tiny superhero outfit was hanging from. “It dry off! Still wet!” She said. “What happened?” A dog barked and ran up beside the woman. She reached down and pet it. “Ya, you feel beta now. Kenny bad boy.” The dog rolled over onto its back. It had a bandage on its butt. “Kenny grounded.” Did Kenny do what I think he did? Did I spend my first day as a Superhero in a dogs ass? “Mam, I’ll give you fifty dollars for the toy.” She walked inside and came back with my muscular replica. He was naked. “What so special?” She brushed her finger along my plastic abs. “He kinda look like you.” She held it up next to my face. I could see her thumb right above the plastic bulge of where a penis should be. “It was a birthday gift for my nephew.” I know it’s only a plastic version of me, but it still bothered me to see her hands touching the naked plastic. “Clothe not dry.” “That’s fine, I can dry them myself…Please?” She walked over to the clothesline and removed the outfit.

When I got back home my nephew was playing with the non-hero. “Hey buddy. Look what I got?” I showed him the clothed version of the one I bought him. “Awesome!” he said as he jumped for joy before taking it from my hand. “Now they can fight” he said, before making Superman punch the muscular-me in the face. This birthday gift isn’t turning out the way I planned.

Tags: action figure, Asian, birthday, chopsticks, comedy, dog, funny, gift, humor, son, Superman

Chapter 4: Ex-encounters

I saw Lois today. She didn’t see me of course because I ducked back into the coffee shop before she walked by. As I watched her butt jiggle in some blue tights through the glass window, I couldn’t help myself from getting angry. So angry in fact, that I squeezed my hand into a fist. The same hand that was holding my vanilla latte, which was now all over my shirt. I wasn’t mad because of the event that happened on the day that I do not wish to speak of. I was mad because she looked good. Better than when I was with her. I hate it when you see an ex-girlfriend or someone you used to have sex with and they look better than when you had them. It’s always better when they’ve gained a few pounds, so when they leave, you can lean over to your buddy and whisper that she fell off and looked way better when you were hitting that. Instead I was forced to watch her happiness as she smiled and crossed the street. A level that I have not yet reached, and probably won’t get to any time soon.

Tags: coffee, comedy, funny, girlfriend, humor, sex, Superman

Chapter 3: Falafel Thief

My girlfriend and I used to go to Whole Foods. We never went there to shop for groceries though. That place is too damn expensive. Instead, we’d eat lunch at their nice buffet. I usually get their falafel balls with humus and some pita bread. On this particular occasion when I approached the falafel cart, there were only two left. As I reached for the falafel balls, that speedy mother fucker zoomed by and grabbed them, with his bare hands no less. “Hey what’s your problem?” I said showing the fact that I was the one with the fucking tongs. “Snooze you lose,” he replied. I guess my girlfriend heard the commotion because she came over. “What’s going on?” she said, right before her jaw dropped (queue the heavenly music). “This fucker took the last falafels!” He stood there with a self-entitled expression on his face. “Just pick something else.” I can’t believe she  sided with him. He flipped one of the balls into the air like a coin, and it landed in his fat mouth. Then he had the audacity to wink at her.  “You know this is what I get,” I complained. But she wasn’t even listening to me. She was busy staring at his package. Right as I said that, a guy walked out with a new tray full of falafels. “See bud, there’s no reason to cry about it.” That phrase is probably my biggest pet peeve. When you’re mad about something, and they respond with a complete inconsideration of your feelings. The fact that there were more wasn’t the point. It’s that these celebrities think they’re larger than life and can get away with what ever they want. That falafel was rightfully mine. He tossed the last one in the air. I watched it rotate above his head.  He winked again and closed his eyes before opening his mouth. Right then I reached out and caught the ball with my tongs. “What do you think your doing?” I had angered the beast, so I started to run away, but he quickly caught up to me yelling, “Hand it over!” I put the falafel behind my back. “What’s the matter? There’s more.” I nodded to the new tray of falafels. He picked me up by my neck with one arm and said, “I’m only going to say it once.” My face was turning red, and I was running out of breath, but I managed to say, “Or what? You gonna hurt me? You’re no hero.” By this time, a few other people started watching our confrontation. At that point I didn’t care about the falafel. I just didn’t want him to have it. So I let it fall to the floor. Everyone watched to see what his reaction would be. He dropped me to the ground. I sat there smiling, trying to catch my breath as he stood over me. He looked around, realizing there was nothing he could do. Then he shot me a dirty look before flying out the door. That was the first time I felt I won. But our battle wasn’t over, and won’t ever be.

Tags: comedy, falafel, funny, Superman, tongs, whole foods