August 15, 2012

The Time I Got Towed

It doesn't need to be said, but I will say it anyway: Getting towed fucking sucks. Also it's (one of) my worst nightmare(s). Also it's one of the reasons why I hate living in a city.

You know those signs that say "No parking here to corner - TOW ZONE"? Well, when I look at them, they might as well say "No parking here to corner - YOU'LL GET FIRED" because that's what getting towed feels like. I get paid all of six kidney beans and seven grains of flour per hour, so paying for the ridiculous towing fees seriously breaks my bank.

I don't photograph well.
Sadly, one time, I got towed. :(

And I was livid. And extremely sad. And stranded to boot! What a heinous concept, towing. Everything to do with cars is just a money drain and something needs to be done about it. We should sign a petition. I don't know exactly what the petition would say quite yet, but we should all sign it. Any ideas, toss them in the comments.

Anyway, one time I got towed.

My thoughts: "Better go make some chili I guess."
Earlier, I said getting towed was my worst nightmare, because it is (one of them), and the only good part about it all was that I got towed with my phone on my person, not forgotten about in my car. So, luckily I wasn't stranded but I was still very pissed.

So I got home and made some chili (out of my salary, you know) to pay for the towing fees being that that was all my wages were good for, and the next day I went to the tow yard. This was a harrowing experience.

I get there, and the guy at the counter's like "Whaddayawant", and the sarcastic asshole in me wanted to say "You won the lottery!", but I was not in the mood to be cute that day. I explain how I got towed, tell him my car's information, and he has the audacity to say "Wow, how did you feel when you saw your car wasn't there anymore?"

All I wanted to respond was "Probably how you're about to feel when you look and see your teeth aren't there anymore", but I just smiled (feebly) and said "Hmm". Because if I tried to make any words, I would've said something terrible, and it's probably not a good idea to fuck with someone who is in control of your car.

Anyway, I paid the guy one bowl of chili and he said "Your car's out there somewhere", which is when I realized I had to search for it in this Central Park of cars. And, you know, my car is black and has wheels so that didn't take forever at all.

Ah, you know my secret. I reuse printer paper that may or may not have stuff on the other side.
The kicker? When I finally got to my car, and thankfully saw there had been no damage from the tow truck, I got in, turned it on, and drove away very happily... until I remembered that I was almost out of gas. OH THE SYSTEM, HOW I HATE THEE.

Watch where you park, boys and girls.

August 11, 2012

The BS 5 - "My Daughter Needs to Marry an American"

Goddamn I've been sitting on this post since June 30th. That sure did take a while.

Due to the nature of the job I had in Brazil, I encountered and interacted with a lot of the teachers in the school system. Most of them were cool, but goddamn did they love drama. Part of my job was to meet with the teachers weekly to conduct an oral language class to keep their English fresh (being that they were all English teachers also). And one of these teachers... well... she said things.


We interrupt this post for a very important announcement. 

The internet just failed me. I just tried so hard and for so long to find a clip of the How I Met Your Mother episode "First Time in New York" where Robin's sister comes to visit with her boyfriend and Robin says to her sister's boyfriend, after he says something really douchey, "You say things" AND I COULDN'T FIND IT ANYWHERE. Someone help! Please!---

Ignoring that, let's move on.

So this teacher, who I'll call... Mrs. M, she was very, very, very annoying. And opinionated. And had a bad case of foot-in-your-mouth. I'm surprised she managed to walk around. She looked mostly like a pear with legs, a bad wig, and a cigarette.

Mrs. M.
She was quite something.

On our first encounter, she really left a lasting impression. I mean, first of all her English was impeccable, and I was very impressed by that, but secondly, and again, she said things. Really stupid things. Observe the following dialogue:

"Oh, my daughter lives in the US!" said Mrs. M.
"Oh, that's cool, where?" replied I.
"In California. I worry about her because she's dating an Arab, and you know, all Arabs are terrorists. I'm very worried he's going to recruit her into a terrorist organization," she exclaimed.
"... By the way, I'm Arab," I said, and left.

Of course, she apologized profusely and was very embarrassed, but I was already offended to tantamount levels. Naturally, I wasn't quite looking forward to seeing her ever again because I really didn't want to punch a woman. But I would have to see her again. Many, many times. And I would always greet her with the same "I could give less of a fuck about your existence" face.

As in, "Oh. You.", not "Oh, youuu!"
Once upon one of these times, she asked me something ridiculous. I present to you another dialogue:

"Oh hey, Noor! Long time no see!" - Mrs. M.
"... It's been one week exactly." - Me.
"Say, I have a question. What state do you live in back in the US?"
"I'm from Chicago."
"So, Michigan, or...?"
"So how close is that to California?"
"Pretty fucking far away."
"Do you have Facebook?"
"Why is this an interview? Yes, I do." (I do not anymore, mainly because of Brazil.)
"You should look up my daughter. Her boyfriend broke up with her. She's very attractive. They say she looks like me."

My mental image:

I did look her up, and I can almost swear to you that's exactly what she looked like.

But wait, it gets better.

"I'm not really sure when or how I will be in California to see your daughter..." I said.
"Well when do you go back to the US?"
"Like December."
"Perfect! That's when her visa expires! She really needs to marry an American so she can stay in the US and not get deported."
"So... I'll tell her I talked to you, kbyeeeeee!"
"... Wtf just happened."

I shit you not. I felt so... violated. And slightly flattered. She asked me to marry her apple-looking daughter with a bad wig and legs so that she could stay in the US. The best part was, I would have to move to California because I guess her daughter had a really good job with guess what website? E-Harmony. Yeah. So I thought, why can't she just get one of those people? Why me? Why do I have to marry an apple?

I never did have to marry her daughter, but I did have to make up countless excuses about why I hadn't accepted her Facebook friend request yet, because I don't know how to be straightforward.

"Noor, my daughter says she requested you two weeks ago and you still haven't accepted?"
"Oh, I've been so busy. Also it's so dark."

Which ended up becoming:

"Noor, my daughter says she requested you two months ago and you still haven't accepted?"
"Oh... my house is on fire. I have to go."

Which ended up becoming:

"Noor, you're leaving for America tomorrow, and my daughter says you still haven't accepted her friend request?"
"Oh... I... I really don't wanna marry your daughter, sorry."
"What? I couldn't hear that last part."
"I said... I... I DON'T WANNA MARRY YOUR DAUGHTER OKAY?!" And then I sprinted away.

She ran fast for a pear.
The moral of this story? If you don't wanna marry someone's daughter just so that she can stay in the US, just fucking tell the person you don't want to marry her daughter.