Saturday, March 28, 2009

Chapter Three - WTF?


(Chand's ride, except his is dark blue. Where does a bartender get that kind of money? Please tell me he's not a drug dealer!)

Omg. It is not even nine in the morning yet, and Candi is banging on the door of my room, telling me Chand is here already. Hello? Who are you? What? When I agreed to go to the Indian market with him this morning, I had no idea that meant crack of freakin' dawn. I thought it would be at, like, ten. This is nonsense.

I just peeked out my window and saw our Indian bartending friend standing on the sidewalk in trendy jeans and a ringer t over a long-sleeved t-shirt, with a bouquet of flowers in his hands, like this is some kind of a date. That's sad. However, he looks better in the light of day than he did at the bar, which is pretty impressive. His car is in the visitor spot in our row of the parking lot, and it is a Volvo. Convertible. Safe, yet daring. Of course. Even the bartenders in West LA have smooth rides.

Candi is screaming and knocking things over in her haste to get us organized. Have I mentioned she is as coordinated as your average mole? Dmanit. I have to go. I'm not sure what it says about me that I'm on the computer sharing all of this, but I feel like I would explode if I didn't get it out somehow. And I can't believe I'm out of bed before nine on a Saturday, or that there's some hot East Indian dude downstairs waiting to teach me the wonders of going Hindi. My life is never dull. No, wait. That's a lie. It is often dull. But I will spare you those parts.

Oh, and when I agreed to do this, I forgot that we're having a party for my little neice for her Christening. By 'we' I mean the entire Notedigo clan in East LA, which is to say hundreds of people, all of them crowded around my dad's big-ass barbecue in my parents' back yard, while do-wop and hip hop battle for supremacy on the outdoor speakers my brother Gonzalo rigged up. It's a generational thing. There's no way I can do it all, unless I drag Candi and Chand to the Christening. That should be interesting.

Jesus Christ. Okay. Gotta go. This is going to be an interesting day. More later, probably after I get back from work. Peace, babies.

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