Oh yeah. I forgot I lived in Texas.

With the way our schedules have worked out this semester - me getting up at 6 three days a week to teach classes and getting home after lunch to do some writing and Schmoobs going in to work slightly later but staying until after dinner for marching band rehearsal nearly every day - we have found that Wednesday is generally the one evening during the week where we can, if the mood strikes us, head over to the yacht club restaurant/bar in the Rich People Gated Community where we currently live as the resident working class poorfolk that (re)opened roughly thirty paces from our front door. The bar also has the added bonus of employing in near entirety the staff at our former favorite area wine bar that went into sudden (for us) foreclosure last year.

So we stopped by for a midweek cocktail last night. It was close to the 11pm closing time and the only people there were the two of us, our favorite bartender Trevor, a couple bus boys and two belligerent thirty (?) year old men slurringly arguing about something inconsequential and inane. And while Schmoobs stepped out for all of three minutes to go to the Little Schmoobs' Room, this happened:


Rich Drunk 1: "{something slurred and incomprehensible}?"

Rich Drunk 2: "{something also slurred and incomprehensible}!"

Rich Drunk 1: "Oh yeah? Well {something slurred and incomprehensible} ask Trevor and this girl over here who looks kind of Asian."

Ys: "...'kind of Asian'? I'm fully Asian, thankyouverymuch. Born in the Philippines and grew up in California."

Rich Drunk 1: "Oh really? See...

Trevor the Bartender: "Oh, I didn't know you were Asian. My wife has some Filipino friends. Can you cook any of the --"

Rich Drunk 1: "...I know you talk like you're not Asian, but I could tell..."

Ys: "Oh yeah. I can make lumpia, from my mom's recipe and a few other things."

Trevor: "I've had adobo...and 'pan-sit'?..."

Ys: "Ooh, yeah, that's good st--"

Rich Drunk 1: "Yeah, you talk with that California accent and..."

Ys: {joking around} "Oh no.  I don't have an accent. YOU ALL have accents."

Rich Drunk 1: "NO see...you talk like a white person. If I was talking to you on the phone and didn't know what you looked like, I would think you're just a white girl... You talk like you're from this country..."

Ys: "Yeah. I guess that's what happens when you've been speaking the language of this country since you were SEVEN..."

Trevor: {giggling}

And then Schmoobs conveniently came back.

But then about ten minutes later, the two thirty year old belligerent fools had left and an older drunk rich man came stumbling up to the bar repeatedly shouting about a pair of sunglasses that his wife might have left in the restaurant. And then he goes up to me and Schmoobs:

Old Rich Drunk: "Do you folks live in Chandlers Landing? My name is {can't remember}. Nice to meet you!"

Scott: "Hi. Scott."

Ys: "Ysabel. Hello."

Old Rich Drunk: "So where are you folks from?"

Ys: "Wellll...I was born in the Philippines but grew up i--"

Old Rich Drunk: "AH! The Philippines! I thought so!" {makes some weird kind of hand motion that suggests that he is indicating his nose...WTF was that supposed to mean?!}

Ys: "Riiiiggght...?"

Old Rich Drunk: "Oh, I love Filipinas. YOU must be a very happy fella!" {shoves Schmoobs on the shoulder}

Schmoobs: "Um, yup. Very happy."

Old Rich Drunk: "Yeah, Filipina women are so GREGARIOUS!"

Ys: "Hahaha. Yeah, not so much with me. Some of my family maybe..."

Old Rich Drunk: "NO! They ARE! All gregarious!"

Schmoobs: "Uh...not really..."

Old Rich Drunk: "You know! 'Gregarious'! Like 'happy'!"

Schmoobs: "That's not really what gregarious mea--"
 
Old Rich Drunk: "And demure, too. You're probably very demure, right?"

Ys: {almost spits out drink} "Yeeeah...not so much..."

Old Rich Drunk: "AH! Well, I'll leave you two alone. Nice meetin' ya! TREVOR, YOU LET ME KNOW ABOUT THOSE SUNGLASSES, RIGHT?!"

Ys: "Okay...bye."

...

Schmoobs: "I think he might have spit in my mouth."

And that was our cue to leave. Calgon, take me away!

True story.

This afternoon, I decided to take a break from writing my one billionth (seems like) article on car repair, home renovation and criminal law to go to Target and buy some toilet paper. We were literally down to our final roll, which, if you live with a Schmoobles, is FRIGHTENING. Anyway, driving along the main road from our condo to the shopping center, I passed by one of those business-front signs that displays the time and current temperature, and as I drove by at 12:30 in the afternoon, the temperature read "7" followed by a "9." AND THERE WASN'T EVEN A "1" IN FRONT OF IT!!! Praise Jeebus, hallelujah!

So to celebrate, I also stopped by the brand new little bubble tea shop that opened across the street and got myself a $3 taro boba milk tea. That store used to be this great little family-owned hole-in-the-wall sushi place that was run by this older legit sushi chef who barely spoke English. He was awesome. And it was one of only three restaurants in town I can think of off the top of my head that was not Mexican, American or fast food.

Everytime Schmoobs and I went in, the chef/owner would insist on making us an entire specialty roll on the house. After we had already gorged on the food that we had over-ordered to begin with. And of course we felt obligated to stuff it down so as not to disrespect. I think he did that because they sadly got so little business that he was appreciative of ours. Also, I'm sure, because I am Asian. I remember always saying to Schmoobs, "I love it, but they really need to watch that. They might not be able to afford giving us free food everytime." And then, of course, I drove by earlier in the summer and they had gone out of business. Sad.

But then a couple months later, a sign came up that said that a bubble tea place was opening. Yay! I was secretly hoping it was the same family, but I don't think it is. But I don't know. They all look the same. Hahaha. (I CAN SAY THAT BECAUSE I'M ASIAN.) Anyway, so I waltzed in to the bubble tea store today to be met with a completely empty store save for one nice quiet Asian lady looking hopeful behind the counter, and a young Asian kid (son?) sitting at one of the back tables with a lap top. And because I sometimes don't filter everything that comes out of my mouth, I bounded up to the counter and too-cheerily asked, "So! How's business?!" as if we were old friends or something (maybe our ancestors were, who knows). And the nice quiet little Asian lady probably thought, "What is this person?"

Anyway, I ordered my boba milk tea even though I wish I could have ordered twenty of them while leaving a hefty tip. But I am poor and under-employed and making my living beating freshmen into submission with my copy of the Kostka-Payne and writing inane articles about alternator repair.

And then, after guzzling down 3/4 of my bubble tea, I realized that I had completely forgotten to ask for a soy substitute. Good thing I bought more toilet paper at Target.

Click on the video as you scroll down to view the photo.....

 

Click on the video as you scroll down to view the photo.....