A Holy Giant with Radar and Half a Haircut
11-24-98 Tu 12:50 PM
Let's see. What then? I'm at school. The kids have been watching "The Jungle Book." The social committee put out turkey fixin's for lunch. I've been working on report cards. The kids aren't coming to school tomorrow. I don't have to be here until 8:30. Too bad I have to work tonight. We're going out to play some basketball after this. I worked on Jim last night. I handwrote a paragraph. I have to type it tonight. Some of it is awkward. Natch. I'm going to begin Into the Wild today. Q's is supposed to call today. I told Shirelle I'd cook her some lambchops tonight. I need to get some cinnamon and apple sauce. I wish I didn't have to work. Now the kids are cleaning their desks, getting their work folders ready for parent conferences. What else? I typed for fifteen minutes before walking to work this morning. I had a cup of coffee and a bagel for breakfast. The newspaper looked pretty boring except Susan McDougal was acquitted. I have to get a little gift for my step-nephew, Nicolas. Maybe I can go out after work tonight. I have to do my third-person page when I get home. 7:25 Night School. I did a page about grandparents. Watched "Whoreo." I'm giving that thing back to Shirelle tonight. Made a peanut butter and jelly. Ok'd with Q's. It's all set. Began reading Into the Wild. Sounds like Candless was an idiot. Without a candle to see by. Or the sane one in a world of idiots. I feel no respect for him at this point, though it's early in the account. I walked up to LACAS reading. Got my paperwork. Walked along the kiddie-filled sidewalks, past Queen Ann's Park, reading, onto dirty ol' Pico, reading, a holy giant with radar. A woman on the street bummed sixteen cents from me, complaining about the ferocity of her asthma attacks last week. "They're killing us all. Aerosol is more important than asthmatics," I told her. I crossed the street to a Oaxacan barber shop. There were two barbers and three customers, plus me. I sat down to wait. I had fifty minutes. I kept reading about this McCandless idiot. The TV was in Spanish. One barber finished and walked out the store. The other guy was taking a hell of a long time with the guy's hair he was cutting. I wondered if they had some anti-gringo sentiment. The guy who had left came back with a Snapple. I stood up, and he indicated that the other barber would cut my hair. I waited until finally my turn came. I was wondering how to ask for a trim in Spanish when the barber asked, "How would you like your haircut, sir?" in English. "Just a regular cut," I said. "Una corte regular?" I said with inflection asking if I'd said it correctly, "como una pulgada?" "One inch," he said. I said, "Yes." While he was cutting my hair, the two barbers talked to each other in Spanish. I was reading, not paying much attention, until I heard the word, "pistola." I listened. They had just been robbed by two men with guns that afternoon. Soon two cops showed up. They interviewed the barbers in English and the barbers answered in English. $590 was stolen. Seven customers were robbed, too. My barber stopped cutting my hair to answer the questions. A third cop came to dust for prints. I needed to leave, but I only had half a haircut. Finally, the guy finished cutting my hair. I walked to work. It was dark by then.
Let's see. What then? I'm at school. The kids have been watching "The Jungle Book." The social committee put out turkey fixin's for lunch. I've been working on report cards. The kids aren't coming to school tomorrow. I don't have to be here until 8:30. Too bad I have to work tonight. We're going out to play some basketball after this. I worked on Jim last night. I handwrote a paragraph. I have to type it tonight. Some of it is awkward. Natch. I'm going to begin Into the Wild today. Q's is supposed to call today. I told Shirelle I'd cook her some lambchops tonight. I need to get some cinnamon and apple sauce. I wish I didn't have to work. Now the kids are cleaning their desks, getting their work folders ready for parent conferences. What else? I typed for fifteen minutes before walking to work this morning. I had a cup of coffee and a bagel for breakfast. The newspaper looked pretty boring except Susan McDougal was acquitted. I have to get a little gift for my step-nephew, Nicolas. Maybe I can go out after work tonight. I have to do my third-person page when I get home. 7:25 Night School. I did a page about grandparents. Watched "Whoreo." I'm giving that thing back to Shirelle tonight. Made a peanut butter and jelly. Ok'd with Q's. It's all set. Began reading Into the Wild. Sounds like Candless was an idiot. Without a candle to see by. Or the sane one in a world of idiots. I feel no respect for him at this point, though it's early in the account. I walked up to LACAS reading. Got my paperwork. Walked along the kiddie-filled sidewalks, past Queen Ann's Park, reading, onto dirty ol' Pico, reading, a holy giant with radar. A woman on the street bummed sixteen cents from me, complaining about the ferocity of her asthma attacks last week. "They're killing us all. Aerosol is more important than asthmatics," I told her. I crossed the street to a Oaxacan barber shop. There were two barbers and three customers, plus me. I sat down to wait. I had fifty minutes. I kept reading about this McCandless idiot. The TV was in Spanish. One barber finished and walked out the store. The other guy was taking a hell of a long time with the guy's hair he was cutting. I wondered if they had some anti-gringo sentiment. The guy who had left came back with a Snapple. I stood up, and he indicated that the other barber would cut my hair. I waited until finally my turn came. I was wondering how to ask for a trim in Spanish when the barber asked, "How would you like your haircut, sir?" in English. "Just a regular cut," I said. "Una corte regular?" I said with inflection asking if I'd said it correctly, "como una pulgada?" "One inch," he said. I said, "Yes." While he was cutting my hair, the two barbers talked to each other in Spanish. I was reading, not paying much attention, until I heard the word, "pistola." I listened. They had just been robbed by two men with guns that afternoon. Soon two cops showed up. They interviewed the barbers in English and the barbers answered in English. $590 was stolen. Seven customers were robbed, too. My barber stopped cutting my hair to answer the questions. A third cop came to dust for prints. I needed to leave, but I only had half a haircut. Finally, the guy finished cutting my hair. I walked to work. It was dark by then.
posted by johnz at 1:29 PM
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