Monday, August 05, 2013

Oh Daddy!


My first few days at El’s, I had to do what I’ve gotten good at, CLEANING! There isn’t space to put anything, my bags are on top on boxes here, my stuff still in bags, hot mess! He promised to get me a rack where we can hang my stuff. But, DADDY, wouldn’t we need space to put the rack first? #RhetoricalQuestion. Rack never came anyway, so. The closet is not full, we could put some of my stuff there. Thing is, there’s no way of accessing the closet, there’s stuff in front of it. His uniform, a few Levi’s jeans and T-Shirts hang outside the closet, did I say hot mess? I mean, Perry’s was in a state but he has nothing on El. I did try to clean, nonetheless. I vacuumed the entire house, including his mom’s. The entire house looked like it hadn’t been vacuumed in forever, or cleaned in that period of time.

Trust me, I’m not a neat freak at all. I like a lived in place, but these houses are just in a whole another state! I have never seen houses in that State anywhere else I have been in the whole world, granted I haven’t been to that many places, but I was all over Georgia and to a few parts of South Africa, never ever would have made up the state of these houses! When they got home, Sister didn’t say anything, I didn’t want or expect her to. El did thank me for tidying up. That was nice. He told me he owed me a Tommy’s burger. Those are his favourite burgers, whenever he “treated me” to them, he really was just treating himself, but ok, whatevz DADDY. One day, I just had to say, NO, I don’t want another Tommy’s burger! Why don’t you get me something I like? Or ask me what I want, instead of treating yourself to a Tommy’s burger every time, I do something nice!

Sister and I continued to bond during the day whenever her Very hungry man, aka DZADDZY was at work. I had to beg daddy to take me to the Laundromat to do his laundry, I couldn’t stand him wearing that dirty uniform any more. He finally gave me some money, I wanted to use my own, but he insisted, he told me he wasn’t Perry, he was going to pay. I don’t know why he had to bring someone down to lift himself up. Perry doesn’t wear dirty uniform to work, he doesn’t wear uniform, he’s self employed and he wears clean clothes when he goes out to see clients, and he has a laundry in his house. Anyway, Sister and I took a drive in her Van aka House to the Coin Laundry. The cats were chilling at the back of the van on top of a pile of stuff. She had everything from everything to it all in there. I mean it is her house, so yeah. Just as packed as the apartment. She made room for me in the passenger seat, turned on the radio and we sang along. Fun times, whoot!

We forgot to take detergent with us, so we had to buy some,  She ran across the street and got us some, we did a few loads, hers (including dish towels, yuck!), ours, and the mom’s. I don’t get why people wash their dirty clothes, underwear and all with their dish towels. That is something I can never get used to, ever! Why not use your bath towels to dry the dishes while at it? Anyway, I personally never use the dish towels for my own sanity. While waiting for our laundry, we went next door and grabbed us donuts. Yumness! She treated, which was nice. She got us a donut each. It was dinner time, I was hungry, I went back for another donut, she gave me this speech about the amount of sugar in those donuts, the calories, fat, weight, fat, Fat, Fat, FAT. STFU! Nobody cares, mind your own business! For that reason, I went an got ANOTHER donut, just to spite her, she could’ve died, she was like, are you sure you don’t wanna just get an onion bagel and split it in half with me? No, Btch, I don’t want an onion bagel after eating a sweet donut, plus, I hate onion, the Fck’s wrong with you? Of course I didn’t say that to hear, but I sure thought it!

I tell you, she freaked out so much, she could have grabbed it from me and flushed it down the toilet if she could. Woulda, coulda, shoulda! She bought a diet pepsi, drank it half way and I don’t know what happened, but it disappeared. That was the highlight of the night! Seeing her look for her half full glass of Diet Pepsi hahaha! She never found it. She bamed the Mexicans for it. I don’t blame her though, they were the only other people in there. She and her brother aren’t really tolerant to races other than their own, white. Let alone that her brother dates black woman and cries when he sees black people suffer on TV. All a facade!

When El sees a black or “brown” (Latina/Hispanic/Mexican) person on the sidewalk (pavement) wanting to cross the street, he stops for them and stops talking (cos he’s always talking, he loves the sound of his own voice). He shuts up for a second so he can hear me clearly when I compliment him for being a nice person for stopping for these poor, previously disadvantaged people. What do I do? I say nothing. Mum! What does he then do, he wants it so bad, he can taste it, in this case, hear it, from his own mouth, he unintentionally utters, “that was nice!” I ain’t kidding you! He compliments himself! I juuuusssttt! I can’t even! I just go, ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW? Didn’t you just say that to your own self? He’d then say, “no, I meant it’s nice that he ran across the street. He didn’t want to keep me waiting for him cross?” PLEASE?!!?!?! Whatever! I can’t even deal with you right now! He has done that on numerous occasions! I refuse to call him nice for doing that, sorry. Not if he’s doing it for the compliment, I apologise! He might as well call me the most negative person he’s ever met, I don’t care. I choose that to calling him nice for that! That’s preposterous. By the way, he has called me the most negative person, no hair off my back!

We went back home, just in time for Sister to fix dinner. She had to be the one cooking. It was her thing, El told me that before I even moved in that I could fix myself whatever I wanted but she was the cook of the family. Even though she isn’t any good, according him, you know him and his back handed compliments,  he was a much better cook, again, according to him. He’s also the better singer, like how he cried so much at their beloved brother’s funeral, not because they lost him but because Sister sang at the funeral and sucked so much, the pain of hearing her sing was worse than the loss itself and the loss was great! Ok El!

Trying to find something nice to type about El..... Give me a second, or two......
He wanted me to sell some of the stuff that’s filled up the apartment. He asked me to open up a bank account under my name for that. I went online, compared the different banks because he didn’t want me to just use the same bank I bank with. I’m happy with it, so why not, right? I could just get a second account with them, no questions asked. He told me he specifically wanted BOA (Bank of America), they apparently have better rates or whatever, they don’t! I looked them up on the GPS, they seemed close enough. 15 minutes walk from the apartment. I walked there. Couldn’t find it, kept asking people for directions, everybody pointed me to a different directions. My GPS pointed me to another, what in the heck! I was trying not to get frustrated, some people, majority of the people I asked directions from, didn’t speak English at all or not enough to help me, even though they really wanted to help. Until this one guy was like, come with me, I’m going to that direction. Score! I tried to walk with him. He was walking so fast, I was tired at that point and I have this thing, that I loathe, that comes and goes out of the blue of having my skin itch to a point that it stings when I walk. Not all the time, so even though I have had it all my life, it’s not always on my mind, because, it comes and goes, I hate it! Know what I’m talking about? I sometimes have it when I am on a treadmill. Anyway, My whole body was tingling, I couldn’t walk anymore. The guy thought I was being lazy. I asked him if it were in walking distance, the bank, or if I should take the bus. He talked me it was a few blocks away. It was another 15-20 minutes away! When I finally got there, I was like Elvis better appreciate this! They gave me their rates, they were more expensive than my bank and wanted a whole lot of stuff and El didn’t want me to open up the account right away, blah blah

I was definitely not going to walk back! I took the bus back. Fortunately, the stop was right outside the bank. I got to the bank just in time! I was one of the last people in before they closed. Imagine if I had missed it? I went to the donut store on my way home, treated myself to a couple, without anybody judging me, and munched on them on my way home. That was my treat every now and again. When El got home, I told him about the nightmare trip to the bank, his response,  “don’t worry, daddy will take you to the bank tomorrow, he’s off anyway.” Uhm, I just got back from the bank! Daddy wants to go himself. What a jerk! All that for nothing! Thanks El

We went to the bank the following day, we went to a few different ones. He collected pamphlets from all of them, which he never looked at. He bought a packet of disgusting cookies and ate them all up by himself in the car with me sitting right there. I didn’t want them, but he could’ve offered. Plus I have the money to buy myself cookies, or whatever I want, it’s just the principle of it, DADDY!

My sister had told me of a sister of her best friend’s who lives in the US, has been here for years. She gave her my number and got hers for me to call her if and whenever. I called her that day, while daddy was doing his bank runs. We talked for a while, she had gone through the same stuff I had in Connecticut with our very “friendly” South African “friends”. It was nice to finally talk to someone who got it, got it, you know? Daddy got back, I had to go. I didn’t wanna be that person who was talking on the phone in a foreign language, he told me he didn’t mind. Yeah, sure! Or should I say, that was nice?

The bank account was never opened.
My sister’s friend’s sister lives in Utah, you know the Mormon State? Hashtag ChurchOfJesusDayOfLatterDaySAint