Soldiers and smoothies
Today was not a good day to go to the gym.
Unfortunately, I go to the gym every day, so it was bound to happen sometime.
Not only was there a film crew wandering around taking shots of everyone (there was one of those "if you set foot in here you are agreeing to have your image used for whatever we want forever and ever but you really don't have any choice but to set foot in here so go fuck yourself" signs that pop up in Los Angeles in the most inconvenient places from time to time), but naturally I hadn't bothered to do anything to myself before I left the house, so somewhere there is now footage of a sweaty, unshaven, stinky me with hair sticking dramatically out to the left. Rats. Then, after I slugged through some weights and cardio, I passed another unusual sight in the gym: Army recruiters. Now, I mean no offense to anyone in or involved with the Armed Forces, but I get pretty annoyed when I have to deal with the pushy assholes who are supposedly out to get people to want to join. It was the typical pair: a big black dude straight out of "A Few Good Men" and a blondie, cheerleader-looking girl, which actually does seem like a pretty good crosscut for Hollywood. These particular fishers of men, unfortunately, weren't exactly ready for Los Angeles. I don't know if they were fish out of water or just dicks, but I overheard the guy ordering smoothies for the two of them from the Latino barista at the health bar by the entrance. It went a little something like this:
Soldier dude:"Hey, amigo! Can we get something here? My friend here wants something . . . something tasty. Do you have anything tasty?"
Barista: "Yeah, we have a lot of different things. What does she like?"
Soldier dude: "I dunno, amigo, hold on."
Soldier girl: "Um, do you have drinks with fruit in them?"
Barista: "Yes, we have strawberry, peach, mango . . . raspberry . . . any of these sound good?"
Soldiers: *blank stares*
Barista: "OK . . . we have pineapple, blackberry, cherry . . . does she like any of these?"
Soldier dude: "Uh, I dunno . . . do you?"
Soldier girl: "Um . . . do you have strawberry?"
Barista: "Yes. We have stawberry."
Soldier girl: "I like strawberry."
Barista: "You want a strawberry smoothie, then?"
Soldier dude: "Yeah, amigo, she wants strawberry. Oh, and amigo . . . make it dos."
The barista and I spent quite some time rolling our eyes at each other.
So, I guess the moral of the story is this: if you want to recruit people from Los Angeles to be in your Army, don't send racist assholes who will alienate the lion's share of the population.
Unfortunately, I go to the gym every day, so it was bound to happen sometime.
Not only was there a film crew wandering around taking shots of everyone (there was one of those "if you set foot in here you are agreeing to have your image used for whatever we want forever and ever but you really don't have any choice but to set foot in here so go fuck yourself" signs that pop up in Los Angeles in the most inconvenient places from time to time), but naturally I hadn't bothered to do anything to myself before I left the house, so somewhere there is now footage of a sweaty, unshaven, stinky me with hair sticking dramatically out to the left. Rats. Then, after I slugged through some weights and cardio, I passed another unusual sight in the gym: Army recruiters. Now, I mean no offense to anyone in or involved with the Armed Forces, but I get pretty annoyed when I have to deal with the pushy assholes who are supposedly out to get people to want to join. It was the typical pair: a big black dude straight out of "A Few Good Men" and a blondie, cheerleader-looking girl, which actually does seem like a pretty good crosscut for Hollywood. These particular fishers of men, unfortunately, weren't exactly ready for Los Angeles. I don't know if they were fish out of water or just dicks, but I overheard the guy ordering smoothies for the two of them from the Latino barista at the health bar by the entrance. It went a little something like this:
Soldier dude:"Hey, amigo! Can we get something here? My friend here wants something . . . something tasty. Do you have anything tasty?"
Barista: "Yeah, we have a lot of different things. What does she like?"
Soldier dude: "I dunno, amigo, hold on."
Soldier girl: "Um, do you have drinks with fruit in them?"
Barista: "Yes, we have strawberry, peach, mango . . . raspberry . . . any of these sound good?"
Soldiers: *blank stares*
Barista: "OK . . . we have pineapple, blackberry, cherry . . . does she like any of these?"
Soldier dude: "Uh, I dunno . . . do you?"
Soldier girl: "Um . . . do you have strawberry?"
Barista: "Yes. We have stawberry."
Soldier girl: "I like strawberry."
Barista: "You want a strawberry smoothie, then?"
Soldier dude: "Yeah, amigo, she wants strawberry. Oh, and amigo . . . make it dos."
The barista and I spent quite some time rolling our eyes at each other.
So, I guess the moral of the story is this: if you want to recruit people from Los Angeles to be in your Army, don't send racist assholes who will alienate the lion's share of the population.