Last Three Days

Ah, a blog. Aside from laughing at 150+ dB in Sharples at mediocre jokes and loudly confessing my love to certain persons as “Closing Time” winds down Pub Nite, I’ve never really broadcast my thoughts and feelings to such a large and anonymous audience. However, since college officially ended June 1, 2008 and has unofficially been gradually winding down to the point where I’m now sitting in the St. Louis airport with a 4.5-hour layover, it seems a little less inappropriate to start writing down what’s going on in Billville. So here goes, buddies; can’t wait to read also what is happening all of your other respective –villes.

Well, lemme begin with the last three days. Sunday, Steph and Linda and I went into Philly to visit Rita in Exekütif Haus, her mom’s charming Germany-themed apartment building. The doorman and staff were wearing these really crisp green uniforms, and all the labels and signs were written in that old-timey German typeface (“blackletter,” I think it’s called). Their spelling was also hilarious: it was this fake German that Americans could understand, so the elevator was an “Uppentäker,” bathrooms were labeled “Püpenwashhausen (Frauen und Menschen),” and the pool was a “Swimmenpit.” That’s where we hung out.

Anyway, so we get ready and commission four pool chairs. I slather on this spf-15 “tanning oil” of Steph’s that promised to let me tan without burning. “Ah,” I think, “perhaps now I will be ‘hawtt.’ ” But after about an hour of laying out, still no difference is discernible on my skin between where the sun has been shining and where the sun don’t shine. So I decide to hop in the pool with die Frauen. We splash around a bit, and then play a couple rounds of Contact, in which Steph and Rita somehow nail the most amazing contact ever. I was hosting, the letter was D, and Steph asks, “Is it a person I ask when I can’t find my car.” What the fuck? Driver, Valet? Doctor of Car Location? Rita claims contact: 3, 2, 1, dude. Ridiculous.

We’re all kinda hungry and Rita has been kind enough to purchase snacks for the occasion, so we head on upstairs. Rita makes what look like some bitchin’ nachos, but I am more interested in some delicious graham cracker stew, which I greedily eat way too much of. (As will likely become even more evident soon, the “couth” in the title of this blog is more of an ideal than a reality.) We head back down to get some more time in before Linda has to head home, and upon arriving at the pool chairs, I lay down and promptly fall asleep. Please recall that I put on some weak-ass sunscreen two hours ago, sweat a lot, went swimming, toweled off, and did not reapply. Nevertheless, after another sleepy hour under the sun, my torso is still as white and virginal as Gwen Stefani and Queen Elizabeth, respectively. Amazingly, my arms and neck seem to have tanned, suggesting that even if I never wear a shirt again, I am destined to always have a farmer’s tan.

Ok, enough. That night, Stikki and I go out for Margaret Kuo’s. Delicious fried eel, stir-fried eggplant (a little bland, but Steph loved it) and of course some sushi. Yum! We headed home and watched Good Will Hunting, a movie which, I am discovering, I really detest, in a lot of ways. Okay, fun quasi-love story, but there are just so many ways in which it’s heavy-handed, self-absorbed, and ultimately extremely unconvincing in the portrayal of most of its characters. I preferred Osama.

Monday! Yusha and I had an awesome day. We had planned to just hang out at Border’s, but opted instead for a little trip to one of Yush’s old haunts, Narberth, PA. We headed on down there (it was hot as hell), and got excited as we drove through what looked to be one of the cutest little towns I’ve ever seen: tons of nice little shops, nice-looking people, tiny little streets. However, as soon as we got out, we discovered the sinister truth about Narberth: everything is closed on Monday. Maido!, the Japanese grocery store: closed. Trinket shop, selling shiny objects for mildly insane people: closed. Bookstore: closed. The only thing open was a toy store and a cramped gourmet-foods store called The Cheese Company. It was still awesome, but you can probably guess the moral of this story. Don’t go to Narberth on Monday.
We went to Border’s and read some sweet magazines and then tooled around a little creek where Yusha the younger used to fish. Yusha reminisced and I ate some pesticide-tainted mulberries. It was a really wonderful time. We headed back to Stikki’s apartment, where we discovered Jon Lo dining with the babes and cooked up a little din for ourselves. Overseasoned fish, cold peas and sweet potato mash... presentation could have been improved upon but everything was pretty tasty.

Anyway, Jon left and Andrea came up for a visit! we hung around for a bit and then began an epic round of “Chinese Poker,” “Capitalism,” “Asshole,” or “A-hole,” depending on your preference and age. That shit must have lasted five or six hours. I was by far the worst player (yes, the game makes it very hard to move up in the ranks, hence the name “Capitalism,” but I was actually just playing terrible hands). In addition, I was being a big baby about it for a good while, but eventually things loosened up and we had a good time. It must have lasted pretty far into the evening cuz I don’t remember going to bed...

Next day me and Steph and Andrea arise and head to the Lang Center, where Steph puts in her final (single) hour of hard labor and Andrea and I play some awesome online flash games. Then—and this is where “the best day of my life” begins—we head down to McCabe and play another sweet round of three-person chinese poker. New cards, nice and slippery and shiny... perfect. Andrea heads home, me and Steph go to the gym, and felicitously meet Yusha there. We all go into the city to meet Nikki, who’s already there from work, and we walk around Rittenhaus Square looking for a place to eat. Eventually we settle on this deceptively inexpensive spot called Alma de Cuba. We head in and there’s an hour wait so we sit at the bar and drink mojitos. Delicious. And there’s red-tinted lighting, which is kind to Asian drinkers because it makes everyone look flushed. Anyway we finally get a table and head on up to the shockingly huge dining area. I say deceptively inexpensive because it’s at this point that I realize that this place is serious: everyone has nice clothes and expensive jewelry and I’m wearing a t-shirt, shorts, and dirty sneakers. Whoops! At least I have three classily-dressed hot girls to offset my mookitude. Anyway, so we order like two sampler platters, and the food is ridiculous-delicious. Unexpected flavors, wonderfully combined... even the dipping-oil for the bread is an awesome melange of tastiness. I’m still thinking about the oysters, and the marlin taco...... Dates wrapped in bacon, tuna-and-salmon ceviche... Salad with fried cheese cubes for croutons and a peanut-cardamom(?) dressing.....

Anyway, we headed out, amazingly during a dry part of the storm that started as we sat in the restaurant, and passed by a “dessert café” called naked chocolate. There was a band of goons playing jazz and of course the art-minded girls in my entourage asked if we could go see them. “Okay,” I said, “but only for a little bit. Daddy Bill is tired.” They thanked me profusely and promised to be quick. Ahh, sometimes attending to my groupies can be tiring, but I just love ’em too much to say no.

Ha ha. This café was actually really cool, and the barista guy was really friendly and explained all these n00b questions I had about coffee. We got a really rich “Oreo tart” and listened to the mooks. They were actually really good. I only heard the last half of one song, but it was awesome. The bass and trumpet players’ respective melodies seemed to be always on the verge of collision; very disorganized, just the way I like it. But they kept it happening, and when they suddenly ended on a sweet, sweet chord, Steph laughed out loud, which was just how I felt also. Afterwards the kids talked up the girls, which I’m sure was a rush for them because Yusha, Steph and Nikki are all very clean and these guys went to U. Arts, where I’m pretty sure all the girls have dreadlocks but not all of them are intentional. I.e. also armpit and pube dreadlocks.

Anyway, we headed back, went to bed, and it was a great great day. Here I am in the airport, after a delicious lunch with Yusha, waiting to head back to Phoenix and see my beloved Rosie. Peace out yall!