"ARRRGGGHHH. HE HIT IT A TON!!!!!"

I didn't have Internet access for, like, four days and look what happens. I don't have my usual medium for expressing my adventures, frustrations, and wacky hijinx ("Oh Walsh, that crazy rascal. What will we do with him?" *exaggerated eye roll melting into smug knowing smirk followed by a slow crossing of the arms and a slight shaking of the head*) so I have to go out and buy a notebook and pen from a shady 7-11 at 1:00 am, dodging pimps and straight arming hookers all the way. It's a good thing I was a quarterback sex God in high school or I might not have made it back to write my tales in antiquated longhand, like a savage, for you and me and him to enjoy. It's a rough old world out there. Luckily, I'm back in here. Better luck next time little-kid-trying-to-steal-my-banana-kid. I'm serious; along with the bums, hookers, lady-boys and other lowlifes, that kid exists. He really wanted my banana, but I wanted it more. He was hungry, but only in his stomach. I was hungry in my heart. Plus, I'm trying to stay regular. No one is coming between me and my regularity. No one.

So as I was saying before that fun little tangent, I purchased a notebook, a pen, and a grey hot dog from the 7-11. My last post was actually a modified version of my notebook original that I wrote that same night. What I present to you now is a dialogue from my notebook. What you are about to read happened as it is written. I've tried my best not to exaggerate for comedic value and have remained faithful to the spirit of the conversations. The paraphrasing present is minimal and exists at all because of my extraordinarily shitty memory.

Before reading this you should understand that I had an unreasonable amount of angry in my system at the time. Although everything happened as written, I admit I was incredibly irate that day. After reading Chuck Palahniuk's "Rant", and being a hypochondriac, I chalk it up to rabies. When I get back to Nagtabon beach I'm crushing that puppies head with a coconut. Lick my hand?! Who does he think he is? He'll be a memory soon enough.

Without further adieu:

An Angry Young Man

Purchasing a raincoat and an apple in Legaspi is the equivalent of atomic rocket surgery, or something.

It's quite difficult.

I'm waiting in line for the supermarket/department Legaspi mega-store for 10 minutes and the bag check guy is staring at me like I'm an endangered white rhino with a pistol to his grandmother's head. They don't get a lot of tourists in Legaspi. You can probably understand it's even more frustrating, after his thorough gape, that when I get to the counter and place my book bag in front of him he just shakes his head. I stare back, bag in extended arm, "What?"

"All bags must be checked at the front gate."

"Why can't you check it?"

"All bags must be checked at the front gate."

"*sigh* Where's the front gate?"

"In the front."

"..."

"..."

"...Where is the front?"

*He points*

"Excellent."

I go outside, find the front gate, come back inside, go into the store, and encounter a clerk.

"Excuse me, where can I find a raincoat?"

"...Third floor?"

"Uh, thanks?"

I go to the third floor and encounter another clerk.

"Hey there, where can I find a raincoat?"

"First floor."

"Great."

I go back to the first floor and encounter yet another clerk. I'm done with formalities.

"I need a raincoat."

"Ummmmmmm..... *stares at floor*"

"Ok."

Fourth person:

"Raincoat"

"Follow me sir."

She leads me to the raincoat section (yes, a whole section) and, after determining that yes I want a medium coat but no not in slut pink, I purchase my coat and leave.

Estimated time taken: 20 minutes.

I grumble my way to the supermarket and start looking for apples. I find a few beauties and make my way to one of the many ridiculously crowded registers, picking up a few impulse items on the way. I stand in a line and it doesn't move an inch for a good 6-7 minutes. I turn to the lady behind me:

"Excuse me, is there a faster line?"

"What?"

"I mean, is there an express line...I only have a few items."

*The little kid riding in the cart ahead of me kicks me in the ass, hard*

"....That's my sister." And she points to some random lady. I'm 100% serious. That's how she answered my question. I felt like saying:

"What? What?! Your sist--. I don't care! I don't fucking care!! Why would I care?! Jeeeeeeesus missus... 'That's my sister'. You tit."

Instead?

"That's fine", and I put my basket down and walked away.

end scene

Legaspi really tested my patience. Like really really. I have a relatively low tolerance for people, and in general don't like them, but, like I said, that day it was probably mostly the rabies. Actually, that reminds me of a little kid who was rabid for my banana. I'll have to tell you guys that one some time.

Peace out.

P.S. For Davis:

"You know? Mickey Mantle? Arrrrggggh!!! HE HIT IT A TON!!!!"

* For those interested, that's Gene Hackman trying to hit an apple with a chicken leg.