So it's amazing the shit that girls who think they're pretty try to pull. No, I'm not talking about Joephet, but rather one of the teachers at my school of the subcontinental puffy-painted-face-variety who at lunch today tried to pull this bitchy shit with the poor overweight Latina waitress when, in the flurry, which granted was partial incompetence and shortages, her coleslaw came late and she insisted repeatly, forcefully that it was too late for the coleslaw to arrive, and so why can't the fries be substituted by way of recompense, ignoring of course the explanations of the waitress that while fries are a separate side dish the cole slaw is a complimentary accompaniment, which actually is of a different size, but with insistence and pure ignoring of the waitresses arguments and her need to consult with her evil Asian owner/supervisor, eventually the charge for the fries is taken off. Now, I'm not sure what motivation there is in this, as the fries can't cost more than a couple bucks, and it's not as if she's in the company of people she needs to impress, or if she's not making just as much as the rest of us, or as if her harassment of the waitress is like her harassment of her boyfriend, which actually would lead to more goods later. No, it seemed like pure cattiness. Or something. It was unattractive, though, thoroughly.

The other thing is how strange it is to be walking through neighborhoods with an eye--not just an eye for the houses but for the residents and the stores and all of these other details, and looking not through my eyes but my parents', whatever that might mean. It's a lot more impromptu narratives that also wander. It's amazing the routinization that limits daily bounds--I didn't discover 24th Avenue for basically a year, and so on... So it's tricky now to try and gauge a whole neighborhood in just a walk...