Friday, November 26, 2010:
"I'm out of shiiiiirrrrts!" the husband exclaimed.
"There are none in the closet."
"I'll run to the Scary Asian Dry Cleaners and get your shirts."
"Have you seen your hair?"
I was willing to run to the Scary Asian Dry Cleaners after just emerging from the shower, that's how much I love him.
"Okay, don't panic, we still have time. I'll run this shirt through a rinse cycle with fabric softener, throw it in the dryer and iron it. No problem."
I was just that simple and off to work he went.
I dried my hair, slapped some make-up on my face and drove to my constant source of blogging fodder.
The Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude reminds me of a Vietnam prison guard in a Chuck Norris movie, that's where he got his nickname. He has a Vietnam prison guard in a Chuck Norris movie grin, it's unsettling. I didn't see him when I walked in, that meant he was lurking in the back of the store with those hot shirt presses. Shivers went up my spine. She was there. Always smiling. Our conversations are kept to a minimum.
"Hi." Sometime I say Hi and sometimes Hello, I try to mix it up a bit, this time I said Hi.
"Four more shirt?"
"Seven ah twenty. Have nice day."
And that's it, week after week. I'm sure she has a larger English vocabulary, but I haven't delved into it. I don't want to be misunderstood, what with the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude lurking in the back and all.
You can imagine my surprise when she asked if I had a nice Thanksgiving. I was dumb-struck. Holy Crap what do I say?
"It was good, how about yours?" Right then I realized, Asian - Thanksgiving, I don't think so, whoops.
She responded, "We ah went Casino."
See, yet another reason Ohio needs Casino's. We have to keep those senior citizens and their social security checks here. And we have to keep the dry cleaners from crossing state lines with there hard earned American dollah.