unsettled

Yesterday I had a craving for Chinese food. So I stopped at the nearest restaurant after work and ordered take-out: a cup of hot & sour soup, an egg roll and 6 California rolls (our local Chinese restaurant also specializes in sushi, for reasons known only to them).

While I was standing at the counter waiting for my food, I glanced down and saw an open box on the restaurant counter, filled with cheap-looking earrings, all labeled for sale at $1.00. The top pair of the pile were rather large, with pressed, flat metal centers, and 6 dangling faux-crystal plastic beads. They were flashy, in a dollar-store kind of way. I liked them. They made me think of old-west bordellos. After looking through the rest of the bunch, I picked them up and put a dollar bill on the counter.

The young cashier looked at the bill, and looked at the earrings, and looked at me, and said, "Aren't they pretty? I was looking at them too", in a tone that contained enough regret that I immediately said, "Hey, you should totally have them! Here!" "No", she said, "I won't use them. I was thinking of buying them for my wedding, but...." "Ah, cool, you're getting married?" I asked, with (what I hoped was) an encouraging smile. "Yes... well, not really; we haven't decided on a date yet", she answered. "We can't really afford the rings." I sighed, not really knowing how to respond to that, and then said unhelpfully, "You know, nowadays tons of people get married without wedding rings." She shook her head, somewhat sadly, and then brightened up and said, "Well, my boyfriend can't wear a ring anyway, 'cause he's allergic."

And now the earrings are sitting on my kitchen table, still in their little clear plastic package. I haven't touched them or put them on yet; every time I look at them, I feel an odd mixture of things - a sort of bizarre sense that I'd be putting on someone else's wedding jewelry, and stealing a moment that isn't mine; a sadness that she isn't setting her sights higher than a pair of dollar earrings from a bin at the Chinese restaurant; an embarrassment that my thoughts are so judgmental and classist; and mostly, an overwhelming urge to send that kid everything in my bank account so that she can have the wedding she wants, and rings that won't make her fiancé’s skin break out in a rash.

brrrrrr!

Dear Mr. Ding-A-Ling ice-cream man (whose cyclical insane-making song is now playing outside my window):

It is mid-October. It is after 7 pm.
It is dark, and there are snowflakes falling from the sky.

I admire your pluck and perseverance, but jeepers!

old school

You know that the current culture of technology has reached the dusty depths of office record-keeping when you find that "Facebook" and "MySpace" and "Twitter" are options in the computer system's drop-down list of official sources for a federal loan borrower's personal information.

What, "Transcripts", "DMV" and "Collection Agency" weren't good enough for you?!