Lots of Monkeys

Where else would you be able to find stuff like this?

Warning: May contain trace elements of Bad Animation as well as The Village People, Cantonese Language, and Skeletor from the Hanna Barbara animated series He Man and the Masters of the Universe. If you are in any way allergic to any of the aforementioned items, please consult your physician before ingesting.

Thanks to gnicklaser for being the first person to send this to me. Oh, and have I shown you the picture of a Deer vs a Dodge Durango?

Warning: Contains a picture of a deer and a Dodge Durango. Apparently, the deer jumped off an overpass in an attempt to avoid oncoming traffic. These pictures are the result. No blood, and thankfully no one was sitting in the passenger side of the Durango.

I get all kinds of customers at the store. There are the usual customers, like the military, the college crowd, the businessmen on trips, the old guys–people you expect to be in a store like mine. People you look at and think to yourself, “Yeah, I can see that.”

Then there are the people you don’t expect. Like the older lady. The really clean cut guy. Or the extremely attractive young lady you had no idea was into this scene. Women always catch my attention when they walk in, mainly because our products are targeted towards young males. I’m more protective of our female customers. I do the best that I can to make them comfortable if they walk in by themselves. Make sure that they know where everything is, and that there’s a friendly face in the store that isn’t ogling her. Usually if a woman walks in–it’s because her boyfriend dragged her in. She’s rolling her eyes and I can tell that all she wants is to get out of the store.

I don’t blame her. Society doesn’t encourage young women to enjoy themselves in this way. If they do, and admit it–they’re considered outcasts. I think it’s a shame. I wouldn’t mind a girl who gets in a little “playtime” now and again. I think it’s kind of sexy.

I’ve never understood America’s conflict with pleasure and self-gratification. “Enjoy yourself–but make sure you feel guilty about it later.” It only makes it difficult for me to sell what I’m selling. Some people are ashamed to walk into my store.

People walk in, look around, act surprised–and then walk out as quickly as they came. As if they walked in on accident.

We’ve got a giant sign proclaiming what we sell. Windows filled with numerous sequels. There are boxes lining the walls, magazines in racks, and accessories laying around. Accessories of all different sizes, colors and brands–something for everybody. The other day, a customer walked out with four of the largest ones in the store, all different colors. I guess they had a lot of friends over.

There are televisions strategically located around the store. You can’t look around without seeing a teaser–no actual action of course, just a little something to get people excited and put their money on the counter. What’s popular now is girls playing beach volleyball. People can’t get enough of it. That trailer comes on and the whole store goes dead silent. I don’t have to do anything other than get it out from behind the counter.

I don’t think I’m doing anything wrong, despite what the media says. I check identification and verify age. I do my job. Maybe parents should do theirs. Put blame where blame belongs. I make people happy. They purchase a product and go home and enjoy it. It’s not a bad job, although admittedly there are times when I wonder whether or not I should quit. Like the other day, this guy came into the store, stood in front of one of the televisions and just started playing with himself. It didn’t really bother me, but he’s got to buy something, at least.

I mean, we’re not giving these games away for free.

(Apologies to Tom Cheng–go! You read now!)

Good lord. I was just listening to NPR. There is a discussion regarding the viability of Columbus Day as a National Holiday. The Moderator just said:

Granted, his arrival opened the door to many horrible things, such as colonialism and slavery–but is that any reason to put the hate on Columbus, as it were?

Word. Straight up! Columbus jacked this country!

I was reminded of my grandfather this morning while I was riding the bus. I was on one of the few empty seats when it stopped to pick up additional passengers. I didn’t pay any attention and feigned sleep as an older gentleman sat down next to me.

The general uneasiness that accompanied the seat sharing dissipated with the faint linger of garlic rice and longanisa–one of the few memories that I have of my grandfather.

I was sent back to a two bedroom apartment in San Francisco, somewhere in Daly City. The one with the basement that scared me completely to death. Towels that hung on racks that never dried. It was crowded with my aunt and uncle there as well. My parents and I were there temporarily, I guess we had just moved over from the Philippines.

I remember him in the mornings, reading the paper, hair slicked back with Brill cream, ready to go to work as a security guard for Wells Fargo Bank.

My paternal grandfather, or “Lolo” passed away long ago, too young to see me go from grade school to high school to college and onward.

I regret that I never found out his story when he was alive. I was too young then to understand that there was a value. To me, he was my grandfather.

Looking at the older gentleman, I realized he was lolo to someone else–teller of corny jokes, spoiler of grandchildren, keeper of history.

And I smiled and said, “Good morning.”

My first Mirror Project submission.

For those of you unfamiliar with said Project, it’s an online repository of self-portraits. Granted, you get a number of “bathroom mirror” shots, but there are some that are just amazing.

That particular entry was taken at the Far East Restaurant in Rockville, MD. Scully, Nisa and an individual that will remain anonymous as per his request, are “representing.”