THE FEET

Today somebody claimed that their medications were messing up their mind, too many pills. Three pills. Blood pressure pills. Three medications I take too, same dosages. In addition to three other pills I've been prescribed. None of this messes up my mind.
Possibly because I actually have one. A mind, that is.

But we're talking special people here. Entitled Republican hosebags in Marin County.
So anything is possible. It's a blank slate.

Also, as a white person, I'm supposed to know all about Christianity.


Sometimes conversations slide very perceptably into quicksand and wildfire territory. There is a giant anaconda slithering around in the rhetorical underbrush. Which, it turns out, is stunted gimpi gimpi trees with microscopic sharp hollow hair on the undersides of the leaves that can inject a toxin into your skin if you touch them. It will burn for weeks, and recurr months later, because those microscopic hollow hairs are embedded in the layer immediately under the dermis, all fiery fiery fiery. You are distracted from the giant anaconda.

You sometimes wish that you were a capybara.
I don't know nuttin' about Jesus.
Never met the dude.

Also, I discovered that Mandarin speakers are in some ways very similar to American tourists in Mexico. Analogous, sort of. Remember how Americans believed that if you just repeated something several times, louder each time, the man with the donkey would eventually understand? Where is the hotel, señor, the hotel? Ho. Tel! Ho. Tel!

So, if you just shout repeatedly into the translation app on your cell phone, eventually it will translate more clearly. There was an hour plus of that. I'm sorry, my dear loud analogous northern dude, but have you considered learning Cantonese? Or German?

Something about production codes, inventory control numbers, the customs (海關局) office at the port of entry somewhere in mainland China, postal declaration forms .....

Yeah, my lunch was interrupted. It was late and short.
I spent too much time on my feet.
Which now hurt.



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