"Today, gaze at everyone wondering whether they might be the one true love of your life, the one destined for you and you alone, and whether you might be passing them by forever...Act in consequence."
This was either the best possible day to scout out future soul mates, or the worst coincidence...ever.
I began the day groggy and half-asleep after my father called at 9am to cajole me into going to the gym with him around 10:30. Apparently my brain was releasing excessive amounts of dopamine because I agreed, muttering a silent vow to wake up again by 10:25 in order to get ready. After dragging my ass onto the treadmill and plugging in the earbuds to watch Obama's Labor Day speech on CNN, I finally began today's task on the track to change my life. Yes, if I must, I will marry Barak Obama and spend the rest of my life nibbling his oversized ears. What a girl does in the name of her country...
However, the assignment called for an all-day, dedicated analysis of men (and women?) worthy enough to cohabitate with me for eternity. And today was my lucky day...yes, Labor Day sees the last of the California State Fair. I had promised my aunt that I would accompany her to countless county exhibits. (I feel that the more time I spend with her, the less she will hound me about reproducing so that she might play with great-nieces and nephews.)
In between mechanically dancing apples and gold-blazoned horseshoes in the Napa and Modoc County exhibits, I "gazed" at a number of prospective candidates. Those of you fortunate enough to have spent any amount of time in Sacramento know nothing of our city until you have visited the state fair. Actually, strike that. Go back and visit the first sterotype you heard about Cow Town, low-class, borderline hokey Sacramento and that's exactly what you get at the State Fair. You can imagine how many hunks I came across. But then there were the carnies...
So basically no soulmates at the fair, unless you count a man whose new take on the mullet is sure to grace the pages of Vogue in the coming months as "trashy-chic."
Later, Rachel and I raced to Mikuni's only to find that our incompetent waitress couldn't muster up an oyster for our beloved oyster shooters. Shit, if she can't assemble a decent drink, she's not soul mate material. After orgasming many times over our James sushi rolls (at $16 a pop, they cost more than a Greyhound bus station hooker), we wandered to a frozen yogurt shop where I fell in love...Stomach already bursting from seaweed/sake heaven, this man proceeded to overload my senses by giving us each THREE samples of fro-yo. He then proceeded to offer us a taste of each of about 15 flavors of mochi. Not being a mochi fan myself, I let Rach ingest while I literally melted over my newest crush. This man was serving me food with a smile on his face and conceding to my every whim. Apparently all it takes to fall in love is compliments, persuasion, and ...dessert.
No comments:
Post a Comment