hilarious

My Trip to The Mechanic

/ ludlumdrive / 1 Comment

mechan

I was looking down with a book on my lap. I was reading “Eat, Pray and Love” when this gregarious, slender lady – she must have been 5’4”, 110 pounds and in her late 50’s to 60’s, walked up and sat on the only (well, there were two; the other was occupied by me) remaining run down, comfortable enough to sit, beach seat.

The lady: “Oh alo! “

Me: “Hello, how are you.”, I replied and went back to my reading.

The lady: “Oh man, I’m tired; djou know”

I did not respond and attempted to continue reading. She drops her bag on the floor, takes some magazines out and lays them on her lap.

(Good, now she will leave me alone. She is entertained reading.) Wrong! In her broken English – not that mine is better – she carries on.

The lady: “Djou know, it is not good to be single specially when djou do not have a man to help djou with too much stuff, djou know; too many stuff. I bring my car here, its brake down. Simply thing djou know but I have to bring here; I have to sit and wait. Just simply djou know.  Little ting here, little ting there, have to do it; alone. Not good djou know, not good “

Me: “I can image”, I said. I could not disagree with her more but why dispute? She was complaining, dusting the feathers out of her chest; so, why help and add more fuel to the fire?

(HUSH PLEASE!) I wanted her quiet. I wanted to read.

The lady: “I am done djou know; done”, she continued.

(Is this the time on the film when I ask her why? I better keep my mouth shut if I really want her to stop and enjoy my Saturday morning in peace while I wait for my car.)

The treaty was observed for a second. She was briefly “sedated” as she read through her magazine that turned out to be none other than the Star Magazine. As if her intoxicating annoyance was not enough, she dared to interrupt my reading again – not once or twice but too many for me to count for Star Magazine.

(OH GOD, IS ANYONE THERE? SOMEONE PLEASE HELP OR I WILL GO INSANE!)

I was ready to crack that WIP; I was going nuts – well this is nothing new; this is my typical self.

starmg1

She browsed the Magazine as if she was swimming through shark-infested waters; just glancing through the pages, not actually reading them. She hurriedly flipped through the pages, side to side; one down, go; one down go, next; and then break.

She paused the Magazines on her lap and turned to me once again.

The lady: “Djou know, look at these dresses –while pointing at the page – the starts are wearing. It look like 1940’s and 50’s again djou know. All come back. I and my family wore them like that, djou know. They were beautiful, big like that.”

(Ok, and?!)

Me: “Yeah! It looks like it, doesn’t it?”, I smiled and agreed. It was clear that I was not born at the era but know enough about fashion to concur.

The lady: “But djou could not know; djou too small to know.”

(Thank you madam, I bowed. Thank you for confirming and approving this message but MADAM, YOU ARE BURKING ON MY STAGE NOW. PLEASE GET OFF OR SHUT UP.)

She did not realize it as she continued to constantly barging in, like hungry hyena.

The lady: “Djou know, money is good but it doesn’t solve a lot. Look at these peoples (she was referring to John Travolta and his family) I mean, they have too many, too much djou know but look, look at them, look at them… hum… now they are… suffering, suffer djou know. His son djou know, too big, very big children and now is dead. Don’t know but… hum!”

(Lady, yeah, he was big and your point?)

She puts down the first magazine and picked up another one. She went through at least four, flipping through each page like an assembly line, stopping only as soon as the mechanic announces that her car was ready. She hurriedly lays all of them on the table, gets up, turns to me and do the unthinkable.

The lady: “Here, these for djou. My car is ready now. Take them with djou (the magazines off course; nice present thank you). Enjoy to read. Good story djou know; good story, nice dresses too.”

She is joking right? Me! Reading Star Magazine! She interrupted my session of “Eat, Pray and Love” for this? For the Star tabloid (Celebrity fashion, news, and gossip exclusives. Users can post rumors about their favorite celebrities on the message boards.) Magazine? All that choreography so, she could show me pictures of some celebrities?!

I must have been hallucinating; running high fever or perhaps, have finally landed on the moon because…. As my late friend and ex-colleague Tracy Smith used to say, “Star Magazine is the true newspaper”.  The bug must have caught up with me because I am finally reading at level 17.

Who Are You Wearing?

/ ludlumdrive / Leave a comment

zaradres

I have been to Kennedy Center multiple times, in my previous life, for performances but never been to Adrienne Arsht Center for the performing Arts in Miami since it opened its door’s in 2006.

I got my first taste last Saturday and can attest that it is one magnificent gorgeous piece of structural design. With its symmetry simplicity, its ambiance makes your jaw drop and drool of wow. The sound is behind spectacular; the acoustics, it never leaves you as you embrace it from every corner. The lighting is alluring, just perfect. The seats are elegant, exquisite and comfortable. And the ushers were enormously courtagious and super professional; every one of them smiled and were behind gracious; token of anyone’s appreciation.

I enjoyed the concert. There was no intermission and the standard occasional change of attire was replaced by one black au couture outfit, replenished by an all 3-piece black sophisticated necklace (long enough it toppled her slender physic) that went around her neck ten times. But, somehow the singer was able to hold the court the whole hour and half.

But the bizarre, a story I want to share, happened at the end of the concert, while exiting the premises.

I went to the show with a friend. We had good seats. We were this close to the performer. Row E, go figure; when was the last time that happened to me? It was my other friend’s doing; he has connections. I am beginning to think that I am suddenly an important person.

We were going up the few flight of steps when I heard this voice behind us.  It was this very slander lady – typical theater going person, simply but very well dress, walking beyond us. She unexpectedly asked me a question.

The Lady: “Who are you wearing?”

(Surprised, I turned.)

“Excuse me?”, I asked.

The Lady: “Who are you wearing?” with insistence and interest.

(Astonished and perplexed, I turned to my friend.)

My friend: “She wants to know who you are wearing.”

“Who me? Who am I wearing?”, I asked.

(Still surprised, I asked her to please validate)

My friend: “Yes”

“Oh, Zara but I bought it in Europe”, I stated.

My friend: “Oh, Zara? There is one in Aventura.”

Some guy, the two appeared to be acquaintances, attempted to participate on the exchange but broke away in a hurry. I guess he had somewhere to go.

“Oh,Yeah, there is one in Aventura? I know the one in Dadeland Mall.”, I replied.

The Lady: “Oh yeah; there is also another one in Ball Harbour.”

The Lady (looking down): “And your shoes by who?”

(Now she wants to know about my shoes!)

“My shoes?”

(Has she had me confused with someone else?)

Still startled I answered, “Carlos Santana”.

Done, I set aside her “imposter” cross-examination (what else to ask?), and I continued chatting with my friend. I was done being gracious. Furthermore, we were close to the door and I needed to go to the loo.

The joke now is “Who are you wearing?”

I still don’t understand why I was quizzed, why the questions and will never know. Perhaps, it was seat E or I looked too cute or carried on a certain aura(ding dong). Next, she would be asking me about the color of my underwear?!

The Lost Perfect Picture Moment

/ ludlumdrive / 1 Comment

dog

Why I should have carried my camera with me!

Just as I have decided to carry a small notebook – after countless of tore ‘memorable’ stripped pieces of paper (I once used bathroom tissue) and post-it note stickies, to catalog my ever so intrusive thoughts that come racing at every moment; I decided after this enthralling occurrence to at least attempt to carry a camera with me at all times; just in case. One never knows when the ever million-dollar opportunity presents itself. Lol. Keep dreaming!

Anyway, last Saturday, I was on my way to the shopping center when the traffic became a tad too heavy, unhurried for my taste. It wasn’t Sunday, so I could not understand why everybody was on their way to the church.

It was drizzling a bit, so I incurred the thought that it might have been the architect as I saw no other source for “where is everyone going” aspect. To conciliate my flustered soul, I decided to take a shortcut as always do whenever I stumble upon these occurrences. (I have yet to come across anyone who enjoys traffic jam).

Just as I turn right onto a familiar street, neighboring residential communities, leading to the shop, I spotted this figure on the sidewalk to my left, strolling hastily, as if in a hurry.

The lady was approximately 5’7” tall, skinny and exhausted, in her 50’s, wearing nerdy like big eyeglasses, pasty sneakers with blue stripes, long skirt and long sleeveless shirt – she came across like sixty’s groupie – and a plastic scarf covering her locks.

She was pulling a Labrador in her left hand and a stroller on her right. However, the thing that stroked me the most and caught my interest – it could have made one heck of a picture; there is if I was allowed to take it – was what was on the stroller. It was not a baby or perhaps groceries like some debilitated people use it for but a cute, cuddly dog. I can’t pin point the breed but it looked like a Chihuahua from a far and wait, it was wearing sunglasses. How cool!

It was amusing; the picture looked perfect. The little creature just sat there without a care in the world, as if it was a queen, enjoying the journey and whatever it was taking it. I loved it. I thought about stopping and use my cell’s camera but chose to drive away instead. It was one amazing sight, one that could have made the front page had I been able to take the picture.