Rock and Roll

            
            I talked to the proprietor of my favorite burrito joint the other day. He told me stories about the concerts he saw in the seventies, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, Alice Cooper. He had a connection who worked at the Los Angeles Forum. He got free tickets through him. Actually, it was his father's connection. In typical Mexican-American fashion, his connection ran the cleaning crew at the facility. 
            He said he met Alice Cooper backstage, that he was a nice guy. And that the stadium had a fog hovering over it from all the pot that was being smoked. You could get high just breathing.
            We talked long after I had finished my burrito. I'm always amazed by the proprietor's consistency. How do people do it? They find a way to be nice and decent against all odds. 
            I nearly broke out in tears on the walk to my car. The goodness of people. Sometimes it makes me want to cry. 
            

To The Man I Just Flipped Off

            
            To the man I just flipped off. I saw you before you saw me. You were walking with your head down and not paying attention. So I waited to see if you'd step into the crosswalk without looking. You nearly did. But you stopped yourself short. That's when you noticed me waiting for you to make up your mind. The sight of me waiting for you agitated you in some way. You angrily waved me forward as if I was putting you out. You swung your arm hard as if to say hurry up and go dumb ass. 
            I decided, without much thought, to show you how I felt about that. So I drove by real slow to make sure you saw me holding up my middle finger. I held it high and strong and even shook it some for good measure. And you saw it alright. I saw your face drop with the sight of it. You had the look of, yeah, you got me. I deserved that. 

My Ladies

       
            I was in Chinatown. I had just left Pho 87. I was feeling pretty good about myself. It was dark out, no moon, and sometimes when it gets dark early in autumn, my inner-compass gets confused and lonely. But, I wasn't confused or lonely on this particular evening. I ordered Pho to go and I was walking to my car thinking I had made a wise decision.
            I noticed an older Asian woman in the distance picking through a trash can. I saw her turn toward the sidewalk and trip on the curb and fall face first. She must have been eighty or so. Old. I rushed over to make sure she was okay. She was sitting on the sidewalk with a concerned look on her face. She couldn't get up. It happens when you get old, you can't get up. She just looked at me when I asked if she was okay. I realized she didn't speak a lick of English. I let her sit there for a moment before I grabbed a hold of her forearms and helped her to her feet. She thanked me by shaking her head in the affirmative.
            A few weeks later I was walking in the neighborhood when I noticed an elderly Asian couple in their backyard. The man was standing over his wife who was sitting on the ground. It was evident that the woman had fallen and the man was trying to help her up. The man saw me and flagged me down. He didn't speak English either, but I knew what he was saying. I walked into his backyard where I grabbed the woman from underneath her armpits and swung her into a patio chair. She was vulnerable and could barely stand. It happens. You get old and you can barely stand. It's got to be a strange feeling, 

Star Wars

         
            I stopped in for a bite to eat. The proprietor sat at my table. He looked pretty tired. He said he was sleepy. I told him to go to sleep, that it didn't matter to me. He bowed his head and covered his face with his hands. Then, a costumer came along and wanted to pay for their food, so he got up to take their money.

            I was reading the newspaper while eating my burrito when the boss came back and sat down. He reached for the calender section of the newspaper. 

            No show times yet, he said. I new exactly what he was talking about. The new Star Wars movie. They want to keep it a secret to keep the riff-raff out, I said. The boss is about sixty-some, so I was surprised when he turned into Star Wars geek right before my eyes.  Not quite a geek, but a more of a Star Wars sage, or philosopher. He was talking about the force and the Jedi all but being gone, and Darth Vader being dead. Where is it going? he asked. I was pretending to be knowledgeable. I saw episodes one, two, three, or four, five, six, how ever they call it, but that was a long time ago. I was thinking hmmm, Darth Vader's dead? I kind of remember that. Ahh, they'll probably create new characters, I said. Or, bring back old ones he said. He rattled off a few names that I'd never heard of before. I was in over my head with the conversation. Then, luckily he turned his attention to a picture in the newspaper. It was a Star Wars character holding the new light cyber. That looks like a fire cross I said. Yeah, it's medieval, the boss said. It's not supposed to be medieval, it's suppose to be futuristic. They're going turn the damn thing into Excalibur!

Sign Language

          
          I tried to buy a new tire. I know about an "el cheapo" place that did me right the last time I was there, but this time when I pulled in there were two new guys working. 
          A short stubby fellow asked me what I needed. I told him a new tire. Just then a taller thinner man walked up and asked the short stubby guy what I wanted. He answered in Spanish and the tall guy disappeared. I stood back and waited. There was a bearded hipster also waiting for something, probably a tire. He was leaning up against his late model Volvo with his arms crossed. 
          The tall skinny guy came out from behind the tire rack rolling what looked like a tire for a truck. I don't have a truck. I looked at the bearded hipster and we started to laugh. I'm not sure that's going to fit, the hipster said.  The tall skinny guy was embarrassed and lashed out at the short stubby guy. They exchanged barbs in Spanish, and when the skinny guy was behind the tire rack the short stubby guy looked at me and spun his index finger around his temples to give me the he's crazy sign. Then, he leaned back and put his thumb to his mouth with his pinky extended to give me the he drinks too much sign. I laughed.
          A few minutes later the tall skinny guy came out with a new tire. I asked him if it was still forty-five dollars? No, it's sixty-five. I told him I'd have to come back. He nearly blew a fuse and said you're kidding me. I said no I'm not. I looked at the bearded hipster and shrugged my shoulders and lifted my hands, the sign for what can I say?
          

The Negotiator

          
          I have a friend who's an expert negotiator. She's a real estate agent and has honed her skills over the years. She can turn a dire situation into no situation at all with her words. And she usually gets what she wants. I like to tease her about it.
          Will you be my negotiator? And stay by my side just in case I need to call AT&T, or the Department of Water And Power?
          She always says yes, but she doesn't really mean it. She's married. And the plan's no good unless she's at the ready. 
          I'm not a bad negotiator, but I'm apt to say it's not worth the trouble. I don't have a negotiator's desire. You need to be strong willed and fight it out. And unless you make me angry I don't have the will. 
          But my friend can negotiate two for one coupons with the best of them. She'll put any teenager answering the phone at your favorite restaurant to shame. She's good. 

Ghetto Siri

            
            I have an idea for an app. It's called Ghetto Siri. It comes with several different ethnic group voices to fit the stereotypes. It works something like this.
            Find a Thai food restaurant.
            Find it yourself bitch!
            Call Ronald.
            Ronald don't want to talk to your ugly ass!
            What does the fox say?
            What does the fox say? He says you're a stupid no-good mother-fucker!