Flying at Tree Level
There is a new teller at the credit union on campus and he is fairly young. I went to take money out for the weekend and he asked what my plans were; a sort of impromptu trip to LA to take Ariel home and visit some places on the way. He told me his plans: to play World of Warcraft all weekend. I took a step back. I realized that my hair was slightly unkempt, combed on top but some what curled and chaotic on the bottom. My clothes were a bit old, a bit too big for me and had not been ironed. It’s as if he could tell I was the sort that could play video games for an almost unhealthy period of time. He probably could tell and that is why he chose to bring it up. I used to be able to do that, but it is a skill that I have lost in atrophy, never mind that it is entirely useless.
This weekend has reminded me that white people are apparently crazy, or at least the ones I saw were. A woman at a restaurant demanded a new dessert because the one presented was not appealing enough for her. I sat in front of Daniel’s work, reading for class. There were two separate incidents where people left their cars, yelling at each other. One was a teenager that felt it unnecessary to spend time with his family, the other was a dispute which I forget, but I think it was regarding the importance of the Earth’s magnetic field. Well, probably not, but the magnetic field is pretty serious business, seriously.