Um, What Are You?
I was in the Graduate Faculty's maddening library tonight and saw Marcela who said she would save me a spot in the cafeteria for some maddening Graduate Faculty food. When I got there, I saw that she was sitting with two of the (I would find out later) most idiotic mother *uckers I had encountered in a long time. I'll call them Dumbass 1 (DA1) and Dumbass 2 (DA2).
I put my things down, and, assuming that Marcela knew them, looked at them both and said "hey." I started talking to Marcela about what I had just copied in the library. It was about that point when it all just fell apart:
DA1: (To me.) Are you Mexican, too?
Me: Uh...no.
DA1: Dominican?
Me: (Shaking my head.) Keep trying. (Not thinking he would.)
DA1: Puerto Rican? Me: (Still shaking my head but this time looking at him like he's an idiot). Heard 'em all.... It's up in the air.... For now, I'm Californian.
DA1: You're from California? So is DA2 (except he didn't call him DA2).
Me: (Turning to DA2): Yeah? What part?
DA2: San Francisco.
Me: Ah. I hate San Francisco.
DA2: (Offended.) Where are you from?
Me: L.A.
DA2: I hate L.A.
Me: Me too. (Fucker.)
This next part is my favorite.
DA1: I've been to L.A. I don't know if I could live there. If I did, I'd want to be like Tu-Pac (he pronounced it "pack").
Me: Dead?
DA1: No. I'd want to be in gangs. I'd be in the bloods and the crips.
This is a white guy, by the way. Around 35-40. Saying he wants to be in the bloods and the crips. Anyway, I immediately turned to Marcela to avoid any further uncomfortable exchanges. Still thinking she knew them, I was polite and maintained an open body-language position.
Then, Marcela got up. And left me there.
The DAs and I got into a conversation about the differences between California and New York. This was probably one of the longest conversations I've had in my life. Dumbfounded by their ignorance, I felt an overwhelming desire to kick both their asses (which I totally could have). But just then, Marcela returned with a cup of soup. I made her go with me to get a slice of pizza (which I've been living on for a week now). I asked her who they were.
It turns out, the cafeteria was full and they just sat down at her table. I told her that we should either get another table or completely ignore them. Unfortunately, we chose the latter. For the next 45 minutes, we ignored them, dealing only with intermittent instances of DAness.
Me: It must be an American thing.
DA2: Are you saying bad things about Americans.
Me: Uh...yeah.
DA2: That's ok. I'm not American.
I had nothing to say. I could only turn away. We were talking about the fact that people here tend to pronounce Les Miserables "les mis." Whatever. After this fun-filled hour in the GF, I went to meet Geno at the homosexual center. This is a place where all the gays can go and give one another the once-over and then, if there's no interest, look away in disgust.
Geno was at a meeting. I read while I waited with Queen blasting through my headphones. We then happened upon an empty cafe/resaurant in the Village where I met a nice girl named Darya. She lived in California. This California conversation was a good one. And then there's the subway. Going down, I saw five GI Joes and four regular cops. Coming up, I saw six GI Joes and about four regular cops. One of them and I smiled at each another. That's what you want to do when you pass a guy with a big gun. I'm having a screening of Hedwig and the Angry Inch at my place tomorrow night. There are going to be about 20 people here I imagine. I'm wondering where they'll all sit.
