Yesterday I went back to school (the one I graduated from two months ago) and came away with three potential letters of recommendation from several of my former module professors. Incredible how my half-assed desultory approach to the whole thing played out pretty smoothly in the end. Major props to Maya, an amazing friend and person, for helping and supporting me all the way. William’s letter of recommendation will absolutely help me in many ways for when I am applying to any university in the future.
I called up Anna afterwards and asked if we could meet up for coffee or something, someone I could sit down with and just talk. Her response to my offer was a question about A.D, if I was planning on getting back together. I sidestepped the question, partly because too many people have been asking that, and I am tired of having to explain to them why it can’t and won’t work. Also, she had things planned for the rest of the evening, so we agreed to meet up the next day.
And there we were: What started as a lunch “date” became a full-blown shopping spree. Nothing is more dangerous than a determined, hard-headed female with a bag full of cash and the unabashed display of branded goods and clothes within reach. Seriously though, as an XY-chromosomed male talking here, what is it about the transaction of cash for goods that is so innately appealing to women? The barter system seemed so much simpler back when our ancestors practiced it. Also, I suppose I don’t need to enlighten anyone about the outrageous GST surcharge rate that is being imposed these days. Impossible to avoid in a society highly entrenched in socialism.
Anna dragged me to this huge music and DVD store to get her hands on some hot Korean serial drama girls are watching these days. As I was (predictably) browsing through the roots and country section and scoffing at the meager selection of artists available (mostly mainstream artists like Kenny Chesney, Keith Urban, Carrie Underwood and oh, of course, pseudo-country’s most beloved, Miss Taylor Swift, although I was pleasantly surprised to discover a Johnny Horton compilation), I noticed a Johnny Cash greatest hits package going for $69.90. And what a deal.
The box set included extended DVDs for Cash’s famous performances at San Quentin and Folsom Prison, the amazing biopic film Walk the Line starring Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon yo, which I cannot believe I have yet to watch, packaged along with bonus features and the 1970 soundtrack disc to the older movie version, a Best of the Johnny Cash TV Show DVD from 1969-1971 which includes performances by Loretta Lynn, Bob Dylan & Creedence Clearwater Revival, the debut album from the Highwaymen, the Live from Austin, Texas album + DVD, and a Ring of Fire: The Best of Johnny Cash album (which I already have). Still, what man could resist such an enticing deal? I am aware that no “Greatest Hits” package on planet Earth can do the entire catalogue of the King of Country justice, but this is a pretty damn good find at a reasonable price. Plus, paycheck had arrived the day before, so I was a little more lenient in forking out the moolah.
When I got to the counter, the salesgirl behind the cashier took her time inspecting the product.
“This is a big box.” she announced matter-of-factly. She was ethnic Chinese, but spoke with a thick Australian accent. A former Australian college student then, or one back for her summer vacation, I assumed.
“Yes.” I replied, not really sure what to say.
“I mean, wow, this is a big box.”
“Yes, I noticed.”
“You shore you can tayke this home?”
“Why?”
“Nothing. It’s just too heavy. Wow, JC, huh? You a big fan?” She started poking at the box for some inane reason.
“Um, yes. Can I pay?”
“Wow, it looks expensive. You shore you wanna pay for this?”
“Isn’t that why I’m here?” I tried grabbing the base of the box to stop her incessant poking, but she pulled it out of my reach and plonked it hard down onto the counter. I was pissed.
“It’s cool. I like big packages too.” She gave me a wink. I resisted giving her the bird.
Afterwards I told Anna what the salesgirl said. Her conclusion: either the girl was a lesbian, which would have explained the liking the whole big packages/boxes a.k.a boobs deal, or she was flirting with me and I was too obsessed trying to preserve the condition of the box to notice. I laughed. And immediately dismissed the latter option, because I would never date a person who thinks the weight of Johnny Cash is too much of a burden to carry around.
And that, dear readers, is one of many reasons why I’ll probably remain single for a good, long while.
Now, off to watch Witherspoon at her best!
See ya soon
“Welcome to New York, now go the fuck home.” – Johnny Cash
Currently addicted to: One of the best songwriters modern folk & alternative country has ever seen. Plus, you’re gonna want to marry a girl of your own too after listening to the track, so you can both sleep on the roofs of people’s homes and ride bicycles happily towards the Utopian sunset.
Sweetie – Josh Rouse
