If you were to look me up on Facebook, and not know me, these are the pictures you’d get to see.
Hmmm… I think I need to diversify.
This one’s for the lovers.
It’s like they added psychedelic animals to Star Wars and World of Warcraft and made the heroes 80s comic book characters.
I tend to get super geeked about clever pop culture references (Twilight in Robin Thicke’s “Sex Therapy”), or references to my favorite things (Bond in Archer) in TV shows, books, songs, and the like. The last couple weeks I’ve noticed Star Wars (old favorite) in a few of my new favorites. Interestingly, three of the four scenarios directly link sex with Star Wars (four for four if you naturally equate Ludacris with sex, like I do).
Californication season 4, episode 1
Charlie: How do you do it?
Hank: It’s an old Jedi mind trick.
Ludacris Party No Mo’
I keep the hood with me like Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Ludacris Freaky Thangs
Tallywhacker is a rock hard storm trooper with a purple helmet, made for crushin’ pink cookies. Goonie goo-goo, we cut bigfoots and wookies; and fat women, because they need love too.
GREEK season 4, episode 2
Casey (to Rusty/Dana): By the way, if you guys are going to watch Star Wars until 3 am in your room, could you just put the volume down a little bit.
Dale: You know he doesn’t have a TV in his bedroom, right?
Casey: Okay, but I heard that scene where they blow up the death star like ten times.
Dale (girl+guy voices): “Stabilize your rear deflectors.” “You’re in range, target coming up.” “Almost there.” “Stay on target.” “Almost there.” “Hold’em.” “Almost there.” “Torpedos away.”
Casey: Oh my god, they were…
Rusty: A rebel booth. Like the rebel alliance.
Dana: Does Luke need to seek shelter in a tonton?
Rusty: You just, hold that thought in carbonite.
Rusty: New pledge Spidey! New Hope!
Any of your favorite things popping up in others?
Ahh, Jordan Creek Town Center. Easily the most diverse place I have ever been in Iowa. While your location and store demographics suggest middle- to upper-class white families, you seem to appeal to everyone. Everyone.
My gig for the last three months has been as a seasonal employee at Iowa’s only ceramics shed, of sorts. I call it the winter wonderland for masochists, and it has certainly provided me with a plethora of experiences and views on life.
I hate headsets. They mean you are always at someone’s beck and call. Even when you’re outside, on top of ladders, helping a guest, running your ass off, hauling boxes, or peeing. You must answer. (But, on a positive note, I adore box-cutters and processing shipments. Call me antisocial.)
I hate being at an equal level with the people who assault, seduce, trick, connive, and/or beg you to visit their stand in the mall walkway.
In fact, I just don’t want to be associated with most mall employees. Period.
I hate people just as much as before. But now, I specifically have a deep hatred for kids with their parents’ money, high schoolers, people who leisurely shop weekday mornings and afternoons, people who think they are better than you because you work at the mall, people who are in a hurry, and about 80% of the folks who frequent my house o’ stoneware. For example:
—Today I watched people wearing Iowa jerseys mosey on through the store. During the second-to-last regular season football game. Against Ohio State. Are you even a fan? What are you doing breaking shit in my store when the game is in overtime?
—Also today I watched a very tall, stocky, unattractive couple sit in one of our display areas and play chess on the giant chess board we are selling. They had a couple beverages and a bit of caramel corn to munch on while they played. Wow.
But the best people-watching to be had wasn’t between customers–it was my encounter with another mall employee. Here’s the backstory: Perk of the job is that I get a 10% discount on food items if I pay cash (This is Reason #2 to work at the mall. Reason #1 being that I need money. There are only two reasons.). Because it’s only two doors down, this candy shop is a favorite of our store. In that two week stint where I worked around 50 hours, I made frequent visits to the shop. The guy there recognized me after the second visit. We’d chat a little as I perused the mountains of sugary goodness. Well, then it got kind of weird, him knowing me and all, so I stopped going (I also stopped getting ridiculous hours).
But then, today, we reunited in the access hallway that leads to the service dock. Him with his trash cart, me with mine. Alone together in the already eerie employee entrance.We shall assume that my face was ten shades of red, considering how easily I blush. However, he was clearly a bit touched by the situation as well, because he also reddened up. Great. We do our trash and our cardboard and head back inside. As I learn his schedule (eek!) I feel like the walls are moving in on me. Sort of like the trash compactor-ish scene in Star Wars. Only I wasn’t stuck with Han Solo. Either way, I make it to the double doors that open into the general mall. Freedom! Safety! Not so much. The moment we get into the mall, he says, “Why don’t you stop over and get a Coke. On me.”
I don’t really hear him at first so I shrug it off. He keeps looking at me. Then I realize what’s up. I panic. Deer in headlights. Mumble something. Mall patrons slip between us in a mad dash to get to as many stores as possible in the last 30 minutes. I make a quick getaway back to my store.
I’m not ready for anymore run-ins with the candy boy. Thank God I know he has the day off tomorrow.