Mr. Kim’s is a little convenience store complete with a multiply-headed fuel pumping terminal and it’s own exterior trash receptacle. It’s quite popular.
Mr. and Mrs. Kim work in the store themselves. They’re open from like 7am to 11pm every day, and they have two other stores in Oklahoma City. One or the other is always there. I don’t know who mans the odd store. They have a couple of daughters, I think, and they’re putting one through medical school now.
Mrs. Kim told me yesterday morning they’ve been in the United States for a while now and they’re from Korea. She has the cutest Korean+English accent. Almost everything that comes out of her mouth is sweet and he’s really funny.
When I buy a can of beer or two, Mr. Kim always tries to put one in a little sack like I’m going to drink it outside before I get home. When I buy three cans he makes jokes like I’m an alcoholic. He thinks that’s really funny. I generally ignore him.
At first, it sort of pissed me off. But see, I was trying to project my own insecurity about buying beer and drinking (taking a drug) onto him. In the past, I’ve had problems with using too many drugs too often. Although I’ve never really had a drinking problem (or drank often enough to cause me a problem).
#1 would probably disagree because I intensionally took to drinking too much the day after I found out she was receiving love messages on her phone, from a person who’s number matched up to a phonebook entry with a female name. It turned out to be our daughter’s art teacher, a man, who doesn’t have a name remotely similar to a female name. This indicated to me that she was hiding that number and did have some responsibility for participating in a conversation which included love messages.
She had been working for the man, spending late night hours at his office. Oh well. It’s really my fault our marriage didn’t work, so I’m not really upset anymore. I sure was that night.
Anyway…
Being healthy means that you do at least watch yourself and how much you’re using a drug. You need to examine if you’re using the drug to avoid life. It’s okay to avoid life every once and a while, but if you constantly try to avoid life, then you don’t live life, you avoid feeling the pain, or the grief, or the heartache, and you miss out on the healing that will come from just pulling off the Band-Aide and getting it over with. If you drink, or drug, or sky dive, too much, then you’re not growing as a person and you’re staying a child.
I’m not judging you.
I finally realized just now that he is not making fun of me anyway except to say that I do not buy as much beer as his customers. Friday morning, I held the door open for a drunk cat who had just purchased a 12-pack. It was 7:50am. 🙂
Then when I came out, I gave some change to a guy who was obviously jonezing for something. He was nervous and twitchy and nervous and grateful. He thanked God and asked God to bless me. God bless you too, addicted man. I hope that $0.85 helps you find what you need for now and I hope your brain leads you to what you really need. I’m sure you’re too distracted to find it very quickly, I pray eventually it will come.
I’m not judging you andneither is God. I knowthis.
God believes in you and so do I.
Please click the image of the bumper sticker if you want information on getting your own bumper sticker. I designed it, so I make like $1.00 if you buy one. I make a little more if you buy more. There are packs of a few and a lot. I sure would appreciate your business. If you don’t want to stick one on your car, then you could stick one on your mirror or on a tree (in your own yard). The tree won’t mind.
God believes in the tree, too!!!! I know this.
You could let your kids stick a few on their stuff.
God believes in them, so do I, and so do you. I know this.
I love you, I_am_tree and Meru_Kashi!! You’re both good girls.
So after church at the Salvation Army which was after I ran into Grayson at 5:30am this morning at the casino near my house, I decided that I wanted to see Vivian at the Phoenix so she could see me in my suit, but it was too early, so I went back to Sunny Side Up for some coffee and bacon (two of the essential food groups — check your pyramid).
While I was sitting at Sunny Side Up enjoying my bacon I saw Country (mentioned in Life in the Homeless Shelter, Final Episode) walking by with headphones on. He was obviously out to exercise the extra 40 pounds he’s put on since I saw him in the homeless shelter. He was wearing a tank top (aka, “wife beater”) which allowed him to proudly display his many tattoos.
After I was done with my bacon, I paid and headed for the Phoenix to see little Vivian, whom I call “Steam Rice.” When she first came to America, she could only say a few phrases in English including, “May I take your order,” “Pepsi?,” and, “steam rice.”
Chinese speakers have a hard time learning to use the past tense on words because the way they make past tense involves adding words to the sentence: “I have steam rice, yesterday,” or, “Yesterday, I have steam rice.”
The way she said it so totally cute that I fell further into interest with little Vivian and was on my way to falling in love. See Instinct of the Heart.
So, on the way to the Phoenix Asian Diner I saw Country was walking that way. I waived and he started motioning me to pull over, I slowed but continued, and he started making gestures as if to say, “Come on! Pull over, you jerk!”
I did turn the corner at Union and started to park on his side of the road, across from the diner and down 50 feet so he wouldn’t have to walk as far to meet up with me. I waited, and waited, but I didn’t see his head coming over the hill. I backed into the street and went on to the diner and parked in their lot.
After I got out of the car and closed the door, I heard the kind voice of Country yelling at me from across the park, “Joe!! Joe!! Joe!!”
Knock, knock, knock, “Penny?”
I don’t have a television, but I love The Big Bang Theory. Smart is the new sexy and that show is really funny to geeks. You know what the joke is? Creative geeks are poking fun at scientists. Scientists do not appreciate creative people, especially those who create ideas that challenge their notions of the universe.
Scientists deal in fact. Creative people deal in fiction.
Facts are real. Fiction is fantasy, right?
Gravity is a fact. I don’t believe in Gravity, or in God.
Did we go to the moon thanks to facts or fiction? Someone had to dream it up.
Is the Earth round because of facts or fiction? Someone had to imagine it was so.
Did we endeavor to do these things because they were they were easy or because they were hard?
What sacrifices were made to verify the Earth is round? Was the decision to hurl yourself and your men and your fortune and your future at the edge of the world made because of facts or because of fiction.
Scientists, I love you. I’m writing this blog on a computer because scientific fact spawned the engineering necessary to create the silicon semiconductor. The mathematical facts that predicted the possibility of semiconductors are facts, right? Who says extrapolating one physical property from a set of known mathematical principles based on mathematical laws, no matter how sound, isn’t a leap of faith?
Why do you discount people like me because we deal in what you would call fiction, which we know is fact, fact which we discovered thanks to a leap of faith?
Frankly, scientists, you owe your comfortable, safe lifestyle, due to a leap of faith made by men, now long gone, who believed in the notion that all men are created equal, endowed by their creator with unalienable rights. I’m sure the King would have called that fiction.
Aliens from outer space are fiction. OH! Bazinga!!
So, Country and his tats and his extra tots finally made it across the park. I crossed the street to meet him and shook his hand and congratulated him on his marriage.
He asked what I was doing and I told him and then he said that I should buy him lunch because he’s really hungry. I apologized and said I couldn’t this time, but I get paid next week and I would be happy to buy him lunch then. He said, “Come on man, you’re a computer guy, buy me lunch. You owe me that.”
Ok, I love the man, but I never really liked Country. I have no idea why he would say that I owe him anything. I thought just talking to him was generous.
“Come on! You make tons of money and I’m hungry!”
I had $25 dollars in my wallet to last me until next Friday and I was about to spend $7 plus a $5 tip/gift for Vivian, to which I was dearly looking forward. And Vivian needs the money.
Normally, I would go ahead and give anyone any amount of money I didn’t immediately need because I love giving people money more than I love spending it on myself. It’s more fun to help someone out and brighten their day then to have money sitting in my wallet.
I knew Country got married because a few weeks before, I ran into him in a strip bar.
Don’t be shocked. I haven’t been struck by lightning, yet. I’m actually married to a former stripper.
Don’t be shocked. I’m still married. We’ve been separated for 2 1/2 years now. I can’t find her to divorce her and don’t have the money to divorce her the hard way, yet.
Don’t be shocked. I still love #2, and #1, and #3.
I don’t know what Vivian’s feelings are about me continuing to love everyone I’ve ever loved. If she’s not cool with that, well, then she’s not cool with me. I’m not going to go changing to fit into anyone’s life… or to become President of the United States.
I would change, and have changed, to better fit into my life.
When I saw Country in the strip bar, he was sitting at a table with three friends, wearing a dress country shirt and a huge, summer cowboy hat and his little glasses and some boots. He was staring at a dancing professional.
The song ended and the dancing professional left the stage without enjoying a tip from any of the men at Country’s table.
I walked over while the act was changing and he saw me and yelled, “Joe! You dirty little bastard! What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I’m just reading the articles. What are you doing here?”
“I’m getting married tomorrow! Come on, buy me a dance!! Come on, you’re rich! Buy me a dance!! Come on.”
I was actually going to do that, which is customary, spending $20 hard earned dollars. But, as I said, I enjoy giving gifts. It’s more fun to give a gift than to receive a dance.
But, since he was a dick about it, and since I didn’t really like him anyway, I lied and told him I couldn’t afford it. I hate lying, but I didn’t want to call him a dick. I should have said exactly what I just told you about the incident, it would have helped him learn. “Sorry, Country cowboy, but you kind of put me off by the way you ordered me to buy you a dance.”
Before the dancer started, I called her over and gave her $5 and told her Country was getting married and could she perhaps test his resolve. She didn’t think it was funny.
Country got married the next day.
Ok, so Country was begging me for a lunch and telling me that he’s hungry and has no money. I was thinking it was because he left the house without his wallet, being out to exercise off that spare tire, but it turned out that he was fired from his job recently.
I said, “Oh, sorry, man!! Hey, the Phoenix is hiring!! I don’t know what for, wait staff or kitchen, but I know it has to be a great place to work because everyone in there has been working there forever.”
Many of the people working there are family members of Vivian’s or friends or family of friends. You hire who you know, right? You can trust who you know.
So, Country followed me over. I walked fast, sorry. He was a little out of breath. It wasn’t nice, but I was in a hurry to see Vivian.
We walked in and Amy, Vivian’s auntie, asked if there was going to be two for lunch.
I said no, that Country was looking for a job. I asked what position was open.
She told me that a waiting position was open for the weekend. I said without thinking, right in front of Country, “Wow! Do you think I could have the job?”
Oops.
I was thinking about working there, but then I wouldn’t have time to work on projects like this blog.
She looked at Country, his wife-beater barely covering his tats, in a really conservative community, and turned back to me, smiling wide, and said, “You’re kidding, right?” 🙂
Amy doesn’t speak a lot of English, so I know this was a great accomplishment, getting that English out in the midst of making a stinger of a joke which was not at Country’s expense, because he didn’t understand it.
Okay, I try never to make jokes like that anymore, hidden in front of someone. It’s REALLY rude, and I was absolutely the best at it. She made the joke impulsively and I don’t blame her. The sweaty sight of Country filling out that job application in a nice restaurant for a waiter position was absolutely priceless.
The Phoenix Asian diner does accept all major credit cards.
Did you see this video?
I guess Country got the hint that I wasn’t going to buy his lunch. He called his wife who came out and bought their lunch. Problem solved.
I ate and paid.
Before I left, I stopped by Mr. and Mrs. Country’s table and congratulated them on their weddedness.
As I walked off, Country called for me. I turned around and he said I owed them a wedding gift.
Good form, Country!
I almost said paying the stripper was enough, I really almost did. That would have been a huge disappointment to my mother and I would have been embarrassed to have said it. Luckily, I held my tongue.
Wow, I hope they don't if you don't want them to. I'm sorry if you've mentioned something elsewhere and I've missed it. I've been quite wrapped up in my own issues for some time now… like 32 years.
It's been a tough year.. but I am thankful for what I have, even if parts of it may or may not change and drift away. Here's to hoping they don't.. but if they do I'll live.
Sometimes it takes me a while to find the time to read most of your bigger posts, but the vast majority of the time there are things in here I can learn from or that make me think.. and for that I thank you 🙂
OK, so no it wasn't too late to post to my blog and I finally meandered over to yours and I love it. I love that you are more random than I am. AND I love that you're real. SO hard to find real people (stil alive) that don't eat, breathe, and think fake shit. I'll be sure to check here once in a while and thanks for not defending pushy ass lawyers like my ex's.
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