Every man has an inner child. Every woman has an inner Mommy. Last night I treated Hoop to Japanese. After a long day of moving furniture, and with a potentially long night of the same, I was determined to eat something that did not come out of a cardboard box or greasy bag. We munched on Edamame and waited for our waitress to come. None of the staff in our Japanese restaurant, save for the cooks, are Asian. I've gotten used to this slight oddity.
What I did not expect was a Spanish waitress. I don't mean that she was merely of Spanish descent. Although picture her in a kimono to get my full visual. I mean that she spoke nothing but Spanish. It took us five minutes to convey that Hoop wanted some chopsticks to eat his dinner with. The poor thing became flustered and looked as if she might cry on the spot.
Finally our little Senorita came back with Hoop's chopsticks. I watched as he expertly spooned rice into his mouth with them. "Try them!" he kept telling me. It's not that I don't know how. I've eaten plenty of meals in China Town, where they don't give you the option of other silverware. But when I'm that famished, I don't see the point of taking a bunch of small bites when I can shovel it in with a fork like the pig that I am.
After the meal was over, Hoop and I trudged back to our vehicles for a quick smoke break before attempting another round of Furniture Tetris. It was then that I noticed he had carried the chopsticks outside with him. "And what are you going to do with those?" I asked. He winked and stuffed a cigarette in between the two wood pieces. Then he lit it and smoked it... in the chopsticks. I should have known it wouldn't end there. Every man has an inner child.
We made a pitstop at Hoop's Mom's house on the way back to his old apartment. He opened my door...with the chopsticks. He closed my trunk...with the chopsticks. He waved good-bye to his Mom...with the chopsticks. Then he began to sing, "Chopstick Man. Chopstick Man. Doing the things only chopsticks can! Is he Asian? Is he a fan? Chopstick Man." I wrestled him to the ground, snatched the chopsticks from his hand and tossed them in the garbage can. Every woman has an inner Mommy.
Daily Hoop Conversation 1:
(While listening to rap on the radio)
Hoop: You know what I always wanted to be?
Hoop: That big black guy that does the backup lyrics to all these rap songs.
Tink: So... You wish you could be the exact opposite of what you are?
Hoop: What, big or black?
Tink: No, a singer.
Daily Hoop Conversation 2:
(Directly after some morning Nookie)
Hoop: Want to hear something funny?
Hoop: When I could feel that you were about to get off-
Tink: -uh huh.
Hoop: I heard an announcer in my head.
Tink: You heard an announcer in your head?
Hoop: Yeah. He was saying, "It's the bottom of the ninth. All bases are loaded. The crowd is going wild... DON'T. SCREW. THIS. UP!"
Tink: Good to know what guys think about while having sex.
Hoop: Well not all guys. Some guys don't like sports.
Labels: Daily Hoop Conversations