From the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude files, #7857-X3A

Good News, they are alive and well, vacationing in China, their home land. That's right I found out their ethnicity, Chinese. Shooting my Vietnamese Prison Guard in a Chuck Norris movie theory all to hell. I picked mother up for a day at the mall, she had Macy's gift cards burning a hole in her pocket. When we got in the car I told her we had to stop at the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dudes. She was excited about this because it meant I would blog about him instead of her. Because shopping with mother is a trip. She knows my weaknesses and pounces on them.

So I looked at her and said,

"This doesn't mean you can spray me with 5 different samples of perfume. And limit yourself to one maybe two if you want a ride home."

"What about lotion?"

"That all depends on how much you want my head to hurt and if you want me to start Nursing Home shopping."

Once in the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dudes parking lot I said,

"This guy hasn't been here in over a month, I don't know what's going on in there."

"Ask them where he is."

"I don't think they understand me."

I went in with my 4 shirt and $7 ah 20. Just as I suspected, strangers. I decided to try to break the language barrier and communicate.

"Are you under new management?"

And surprisingly the Chinese woman strung along a series of comprehendable sentences,

"No, uncle and auntie are vacationing in China to see their new grandchild. Be back in 2 month. That's seven dollars and twenty-five cents please."

Get right on out of here, not only did I find out they're Chinese, but they are old enough to have grandkids and my 4 shirt went up 5 cents.

From the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude files, #1675 section B

Friday, November 26, 2010:

"I'm out of shiiiiirrrrts!" the husband exclaimed.

Eff

"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.

"Hello."

"Hi." Sometime I say Hi and sometimes Hello, I try to mix it up a bit, this time I said Hi.

"Four more shirt?"

"Yes."

"Seven ah twenty. Have nice day."

"Thank you."

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.

A new encounter with the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude

Boy did the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude and I go way off our weekly routine, holy crap. First of all I'm hurt, he forgot my name, he forgot our special little, unspoken bond we had. How can this happen? I'm there every week. To make matters worse, we had to communicate with one another. This never goes well.
With his Vietnam prison camp guard in a Chuck Norris movie grin, he said, "Nine dollah."
I already had my seven ah twenty on the counter in exact change, they like exact change there, in fact they almost take it out of my wallet. They like singles. Perhaps they like to avoid the bank, communication problem going on there too maybe hmmmm?
"Huh, nine dollars?" I'm so finding a new dry cleaner pal, I'm not scared of you.
"You drop off 5 shirt, not 4. Nine dollah." He showed me the receipt where they wrote 4 and then added a +1, didn't refer to the shirts hanging next to me but the doctored receipt, like a paper trail will convince me the error of my ways. I glanced at the shirts and he proceeded to count them out for me, still with the Vietnam prison camp guard in a Chuck Norris movie grin.
I wasn't 100% sure they were all the husbands shirts but was not going to check them in front of the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude. Coming off a week of vacation and getting back to work, I was slammed with piles of stuff to do on my desk, interrupted more times that I can count so next week will be a repeat of this week, my eggs hurts, I was starving and I didn't want him to get his numb-chucks out and beat me senseless. I am scared of him. I gave him a ten so he had to cough up one of his precious singles and I left.
They are all the husbands shirts or we inherited a new one, not sure.
And yes, I said my eggs hurt.

New Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude Blog Fodder

And there you have it, stop at the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dudes to pick up the husbands shirts and a post for your blog writes itself. I should go there every day. The previous owner was in the back and and saw me, "Hey, I remember you! How are they treating you here?" With the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude lurking near the big, giant, hot shirt press I answered, "They're treating me great."
Seriously, what else was I going to say?"
Back in the day when the ownership transition was made, I could have left for a dry cleaner that understood English, I didn't have a blog then so I didn't need them like I do now. But I decided to give the guy that looks like the Vietnam prison camp guard in a Chuck Norris movie a chance. It's proven to have been a good move. He still doesn't understand me but he can almost spell my whole last name. I walk in the door and he says, with his Vietnam prison camp guard in a Chuck Norris movie grin, "S..... E..... E....." I usually have nothing to say to that so I just smile at him like it's our little joke.
Seriously, what else can I do?
The previous owner said, "It's good to see you again."
The Asian woman said, "Have nice day."
The Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude said nothing.
I left hearing the words from the previous owner commenting on me being an old customer and complimenting the none English speaking couple on keeping me.
I really hoped, as I got in my car that the Asians could differentiate the fact that I was an old customer, not an old customer.

From the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude Files

I've been quietly observing my scary Asian dry cleaning dude for some time now. In the past here and here and somewhere else I can't seem to find, I've posted about how this little guy looks like he belongs in a Chuck Norris movie staring as a evil prison camp guard. But my during weekly stops to the dry cleaners, I've noticed the woman seems to be taking charge of the place. She has inadvertently fallen into some American customs. Always on the phone when I stop for the husbands shirts and doesn't bother to hang up, she just chatters away in her native tongue and tells me to "have nice day" when I leave.
She has advanced herself to a phone stuck in her ear and now she can continue to work at her sewing machine while chattering, instead of waiting on me she yells something to the scary dude and he hops to attention, bringing the scariness down a few notches. Hmmmmm. The charm and ambiance of the stereo-typical Asian Dry Cleaners has been removed from my weekly routine. They've Americanized, a simulated into our rude culture. What a drag, they were a good source of blogging material.

Nervous American Broad

I've posted about my dry cleaners experiences before, they're some kind of Asian couple. They speak broken English to me and the other customers, but when I first walk in, before the door has a chance to chime announcing my presence I hear them speaking in their native tongue. Chinese, Japanese, Korean, I don't know it's all Greek to me. He is usually yelling something from the back while working the big shirt press. He's a scary little dude. Not because he's Asian, but because he reminds me of a Vietnamese military prison camp guard. That's not racist, is it?
I just have a vivid imagination and war movies are on the TV a lot with three boys and a husband. I'm outnumbered. He does look like he's been in a Chuck Norris movie though.
She usually gets my shirts, takes my money and tells me to have a nice day. Last week I heard her in a little room but he approached the counter.
'Oh God please don't let me say anything stupid. Say nothing, just shut your mouth, no eye contact.'
I'm my own best friend when it comes to advice.
I made it to my car with clean shirts and all my fingers. I leaned over to file away my receipt and put my purse down when I heard a gentle tapping on my window. After totally freaking myself out it was inevitable that when I turned and saw him peering in my car window that I would jump out of my seat with a "Don't Kill Me" look on my face. I think I scared the poor guy. He held up four fingers and said, "Four shirt, four?"
Words escaped me, I nodded yes and he went back into the dry cleaning facility probably muttering to himself, "Nervous American broad."