Stengah!

So I pull up to 7-11, just because, and I head on in. Well, these two fine looking young women and I meet up at the door at the same time. (what timing eh?) On the way to the door I hear the two of them talking...

Now this would normally fall into the "Overheard #xx" category, but I haven't done one of those in like 6 months, and this is more than just two chowderheads blowing bubbles into the wind. Besides, I think the whole "Overheard #xx" idea is about defunct. It has some merit but it hasn't stood the test of time... who knows... maybe in the future... probably not...

Anyway.

As we approach each other, the short, blonde haired, high heeled in jeans with a black jacket on young 'lady' says, "Do they have Thanksgiving in Africa?"

Now hold it right there. I know we haven't even gotten very far into tonight's experience to really justify putting this one on pause, but I want you to savour this moment. As I did at that moment.

You really need to appreciate this, a chilly Monday night, around 11 pm, in Hollywood, walking up to a 7-11, the dark of night shattered by the surgery room blast of light from inside the store, two good looking girls (I almost typed 'women' but.... but.... oh HAHAHAHA! sure they 'looked' good, but... posters look good, but they're pretty flat... and they sit there and do nothing... overall they really contribute nothing, except to make a room more interesting to look at... kind of like a house plant...)

Anyway.

So, you get the image in your head right? Cold, dark, bright, orange and green. We come to the door at the same time, I get a bit of a sideways glance from one of them, the second and taller of the two, while the first one, the shorter one, asks, "Do they have Thanksgiving in Africa?"

Being the gentleman that I am, I reach for the door and open it for them. As you can predict with L.A. women I think I got a glance and nothing for holding the door. Well, I'd do it anyway, it's just the way I am made, but that doesn't mean they aren't uppity bitches. I think they were driving a Honda Accord or something similar (which is the appropriate Los Angeles method of judging somebody's inherit value as a human...) Poor things. I hope they find a sugar daddy soon, or they might have to resort to sexual favours for... oh, well, I suppose they already do that... it *is* L.A. afterall...

I mean, there's no law against being NICE. You know, I'd really like to meet their parents... the people that raised them...

Anyway.

So I open, the door, and they head in, and I take this question, "Do they have thanksgiving in Africa?" with a measure of shock. I'm cool on the outside, but on the inside I'm totally like, woah, omigod wtf byob mia afk bbq !?!

And I crack a smile. A smirk really, because I tried to stifle it but it went up on one side...

The second girl, the taller one, says, "Oh yeah, I'm sure they have mashed potatoes and gravy and..." I can't remember all the details, but she was being sarcastic, saying that she was sure that Africans (in general? there is a lot of them, and many different types...) were waaaayyyy into Thanksgiving.

They headed right on into the 7-11 and I came around the door slowly, you know, with a little style, mostly just to buy myself some time to crack up a tiny bit before getting into the store... Once inside I looked over at them, I think the taller one looked at me, not at the same time, but the way you can see someone look at you out of the corner of your eye, the way you just looked at them out of the corner of your own eye, as if, like in olden tymes, when two people, untrusting, suspicious of each other would "eye" one another...

But enough run on sentences...

So we did the subconscious eying of each other, and for a moment I wondered if they were fucking with me, because the conversation was so completely absurd. If they were, kudos to them, because I think they're idiots *and* I got a great laugh out of it. If they weren't, well, then I think they're idiots *and* I got a great laugh out of it.

Anyway.

While standing in line, I was behind an orthodox Jew, and he had a drink cup, you know, one of those big plastic jobbers with the top on them so you can put a straw in them... like the ones you find at Jack in The Box, or 7-11, but (And I am completely not shitting you) this thing was HUGE. It was as tall as a usual plastic novelty drink cup, but it was twice as wide. I'm guessing (And I am completely not shitting you) it will hold 2 liters of whatever... you know... an entire bottle of Coke, or something...

But that's not the point. The cup had a graphic on it, as most do, and this one was of "American Chopper", the show on Discovery or The Learning Channel or whatever about the bike builders, Orange County Choppers, where you get to watch Teutul Sr. and Teutul Jr. bitch and moan at each other for a whole hour while they (Teutul Jr. really, Mr. Teutul Sr. please don't kill me, I'm just being honest...) build a bike from mostly scratch...

I know I'm all wordy and shit, but the short of it is, I'm standing there behind an orthodox Jew, in 7-11, and he's weilding this fucking GIANT cup of soda advertising a show about hard core bikers... Only in L.A., right?

Anyway.

As I'm leaving I get to the door, the tall and short bimbos are still over in the corner get cash out of ye olde cash machine, I reach to push the door open, and in the corner of the window, the corner in the middle where the doors meet, just above the door handle pushing thingy there is a sign, I think it was a "now hiring" sign, and of course the sign was facing outside so the blank white backside of the sign was facing inwards towards the inside of the store...

I push the door open as I'm walking out, and notice, scratched onto the blank backside of the sign, were the words "help me out".

A message from the past, from a desperate person... an artifact from a moment unknown to you or I... a moment... help *who* out? It reminded me of the scribbled signs like "watch for the walkin dude" that Roland and company came across before meeting Father Callahan in the Wolves of the Calla.

It was a fitting end to my 7-11 adventure, because I certainly needed help out of that place... There are a few other funny things that happened while inside, but this is enough for you.

Anyway.

I'm watching Family Guy while writing this and Brian just ordered a 'Stinger, with a whiskey back' and I actually know what that is... sophisticated... and far older skool than Schlitz Malt Liquor...

... it's also the name of a kickass Meshuggah tune...