Forget it, Jake. It's Chinatown.
here is a picture i drew, of louise and i, in new york.
louise is wearing that shirt because countless people in new york asked her what part of ireland she was from. she's from scotland. "hoaching with talent" is scottish slang for "full of cute boys."
i am not drunk in the picture, i merely tripped. however, after asking me if i was ok, an irish guy standing on the curb said to me "you're a bit of a train wreck, aren't you?" the sign refers to joe's shanghai, a chinese restaurant in chinatown. getting there was a nightmare. our cab driver must have been new to town. he certainly was new to english. which is why he dropped us off on PEARL street, even though i even spelled out PELL. at that point, we didn't care. we were out of cash. anyway, eating there was not all that pleasant either. the yelled at us the minute we walked in the door, because they were closing in FORTY FIVE MINUTES. oh dear. they screamed at us "YOU ORDER NOW. YOU WANT DUMPLINGS BEFORE YOU ORDER?' not knowing anything about the dumplings, we just shook our heads. louise was so frightened by the pressure to order, she thought she might have ordered something with pork in it. and she hates pork. the food was below ok, and i wanted to order dessert because i didn't like my food. there was a dessert card on the table, so i called the waiter over and pointed to the fried mini bun whoosey what. "that's not dessert." "it's not? it's on the card." "that's not dessert. no dessert." and he walked away. but the final straw was the orange slices. we watched everyone get a plate of orange slices at the end of their meal. when we were done, do you think we got orange sliced? NO! did we even get fortune cookied? NO!! fuck joe's shanghai and fuck chinatown and fuck pell st.
there is more to the reasoning behind fucking chinatown. but suffice to stay, we got trapped there twice. both times starving. it's not important, but when i left, i'd had enough of chinatown. that picture was for the trip report the managers asked me to write.
hey guess what? i'm not cleaning a GOD DAMN THING in my apartment this weekend. whoooo-RAY!!
Comments
Comments closed on older entries, whenever I get around to it, to avoid spam.hooray for not cleaning! i hate cleaning...
Posted by: Judy | 3 août 2003 16h26
Hey Jodi,
We've started using your computer when you're at work and lo and behold found your journal. My name is Jose and I'm the patriach of one of the families of dustmites that lives in your apartment. Specifically, we belong to the Purple Chair Tribe of the Living Room Territory.
I just want to thank you from the bottom of my dusty heart (ha, ha) that you didn't clean last weekend. Nothing is more distruptive to our way of life than that bloody shop vac. We've tried several times to disable it and any other cleaning implements we come across, with limited success. No hard feelings, I hope.
Anyway, thanks again for laying off the cleaning. My 673,458 offspring thank you also.
~ Jose
PS: I sent word to the Jersey Sheet Tribe and they've agreed not to crawl in your nose anymore. ~J.
Posted by: The Dust Mite Family | 4 août 2003 9h37