Day of Champions

Yesterday was quite the memorable day. I promise there's media related content.

Started the day at PBS, doing my intern related duties. I had a guestlist spot +1 for the The Builders and the Butchers show at the Crocodile, so was prepped and ready to go for that, but had to work a shift at Piecora's first.

I hit up Piecora's, and many "firsts" occurred. Trained a new driver, had my first near-death experience, my first racist customer, and my first "bird flip" from another driver. Some dumb girl, smoking a cigarette, and on her cell phone decided to blaze through an intersection to a flurry of brake screeching, loud "OH SHIT!!"s, and a less than a foot away collision.

Then I'm delivering to a family in the most hard to find house on the planet, with all kinds of winding dirt roads and unmarked streets. The father invites me in, has me place the pizza goods on the kitchen counter, offers me a cookie. As I make my way out the door, one of his grade school aged sons starts goading me "NO SPEAK ENGLRISH! NO SPEAK ENGRISH!". I have the cookie in my mouth, and take it out and say "That's extremely rude little man", and close the door. I'm walking to my car and he's in the window now still yelling "NO SPEAK ENGRISH!". Incredible shit, incredible.

Oh and then earlier, some dude in front of me is making horrible driving decisions, so I'm in my car waving my hands in indignation and verbalizing "what the hell are you doing?". Apparently he saw this in his rearview mirror and as I pass and look at him, he's flipping the bird. It made me feel good inside that I could induce such a response, haha.

So then it's about that time to get off work; Craig is in town from Oregon, on his spring break, so we decide to go to the Butchers and Builders show, since we got 2 free spots. We get there, and of course, Belltown on a Friday night is absolute chaos. By some wonderful act of God, we find a parking space right across the street from the Crocodile. We go up to the door, and Craig forgot his wallet in his car, which is in Cap Hill. We shamefully enter the car again to go and get it, cuz the doormen will have none of that "I don't have an ID, but I'm clearly 30 years old" reasoning. So I speedily make my way back to Cap Hill, which was a horrible horrible decision; the speedily part. Cuz then I got pulled over by a cop right on Denny and Broadway, when I "ran a red light". This took another 20 mins or so, but we got off with a warning. I credit this to positive racial stereotyping; it is a sociological phenomenon that exists for us Asian Americans; us "model minorities". Bwahahhaa.

Anyhoo, we successfully grab the wallet/ID in question and make our way back to the Croc, where in an even better act of God, we get a CLOSER parking spot. Literally, right in front of the doors of the Crocodile.

So then we celebrated our victory with expensive beer in plastic cups and the wonderful "if the Decemberists had balls" sound of The Builders and the Butchers.

Good times!