Posted By on June 27, 2008

“Three Stories And An Announcement”

.: I finally sat my grandparents in front of a camera and got them to tell their story. They’re naturals before the lens, and it doesn’t hurt that my grandfather has the voice for storytelling. It also doesn’t hurt that they’ve told this story hundreds of times before. They know exactly what to say and how to say it, right down to correcting one another’s faulty recollections (“No Gerald, you didn’t meet John in ’53, it was ’54…”). Two obstacles prevent me from sharing the footage with you, one of which is more easily surmounted than the other. The first is by wish of my grandmother who told me, “None of this goes on the internet!”* The second is more technical in nature. It involves a busted firewire port and lack of appropriate editing software. I come with the ability to defy the wishes of fellow humans, but manipulating technology to obey my own whims takes considerably more effort and expertise.

.: Two Mormon missionaries visited my apartment complex yesterday. While parking my car I saw a neighbor bluntly refuse their offer of spiritual enlightenment. They turned their attention to me, and natural human empathy overcame me. Nobody should have to wander outside during a Texas summer, so I invited them inside and poured a glass of ice water for both. An hour long conversation ensued, during which I made it clear that I’m an atheist who rejects all religious stories as equally nonsensical. “How do you know that?” was uttered more than once, and scripture was consulted as many times. I gave up after illustrating a patently absurd scenario about a man who claims he can only turn invisible if you first believe he can turn invisible — only to have my intended conclusion interrupted by the the first missionary, “That’s exactly what faith is like. You understand it perfectly.” They asked me to pray (I refused), and as the session came to an amicable end I was struck nonplussed by the second missionary’s remark, “We enjoy talking to people like you about our beliefs. We love it when you fuck with us like this.”

.: For the past semester, my roommates have all but stopped buying food. Diego purchased a meal plan and eats mostly on campus, and Sammy scrounges about for meals elsewhere. I had a similar shift in my eating habits, moving from fast food to home meals. I’d typically buy a week’s worth of food on Sunday and ration carefully for the next six days. The arrangement worked nicely for a while, but occasionally a Saturday would come and I’d find myself short one banana or missing a can of tuna. The first few times I’d attributed these imbalances to poor accounting on my part, but after a few weeks accusations were made, none with hard proof. Then, about a month ago, my mother sent a care package that included four cans of high quality salmon, around $15 worth. A day passed before I tried one, and I found an empty can already in the trash. I confronted the roommates, and Diego confessed in the most shit-eating Yes-I-did-it-and-it-was-delicious manner possible. After pestering for a week he eventually made good and bought three cans of Chicken of the Sea brand salmon — not the best stuff, but the quantity made up for the quality. Except, he ate two of the cans before I even got a crack at them. I polished off the remaining can and three weeks passed. My mom convinced me to switch permanently from tuna to salmon, so I bought six more Chicken of the Sea cans on Sunday. Today’s Friday, so there should’ve been two more cans left. I came home and found them empty by the sink, neatly rinsed and set to dry. I called and asked Diego, “Did you eat my salmon?” “Yeah,” he says, “I thought they were mine.” Analyze this passage, readers: a full three weeks have passed since he made his last purchase. Perhaps he perceives time differently so that an hour is but a minute to him, a week but a day, three weeks but three days, etc. If that were so, he honestly could have confused the salmon in the pantry today for the salmon he placed in the pantry three weeks ago. Regardless, the previous salmon was there to make up for the salmon he took from me. Am I nitpicking? Maybe. But fuck it, I wanted my salmon, it wasn’t there because he took it, and his excuse was childish bullshit. Amy, you’re going to be much better than this, right?

.: Lastly, I wanted to leave the state this weekend, but that didn’t happen. At the very least, I’m leaving Waco for always exciting Austin Houston. I’ll be staying at my brother’s new place. If you read this before Sunday and still consider an evening with me time well spent, give me a call.

*Like she has the wherewithal to find out.

About The Author


2 Responses to “Snippets”

  1. pero says:

    I’ve had roommates that seem to lack the sense of “what’s yours is yours”. Really, the only solution I found was to shop, post the receipt (or a copy of it) and make the scavenger pay me back for half. This works in the sense that you won’t be out the MONEY for all of the food he mooches, but not so well as far as arriving home after your classes and finding that all of the needed ingredients that you had planned to use for dinner are no longer available.

    In regards to the Mormons, I had a similar experience with some equally enthusiastic Jehovah’s Witnesses. When they asked me if I believed that should the human race launch the Nukes and “try to destroy themselves,” would God sweep down his devine hand and save us from self destruction? [I replied by telling them, “Absolutely not, He doesn’t interfere with Free Will.” After that, I questioned their attempts at recruiting others, since JH’s believe that (some limited #) of people will even be saved. I mean, anyone with a minimal understanding of statistics would be able to analyze that situation and realize that their best chance would be to leave the rest of us alone.

  2. Serena says:

    I wonder if they were the same Mormons that came by my place before I moved…

    Roommates suck, that’s why I don’t usually have one.

Leave a Reply