five dollar shake.

Saturday, November 4, 2017

“THAT’S A SHAKE? THAT’S MILK AND ICE CREAM? THAT’S FIVE DOLLARS?”

“can i sit here?”
“yes.” (along with no other words and only a split second of eye contact. not even a blank stare. an attitude that suggests “i really fucking wish you wouldn’t.”)

ouch! why! i mean i know you didn’t exactly beckon me over and i know you have a huge stack of papers that look like some shit you really don’t want to learn but there aren’t any other free seats! gimme a break. what did i do to you!?

(i see a video on instagram of a girl showing her new crystals and against every fucking semi-smart self-restraining instinct i have i decide to message her.)

“you’re kidding me.”
“what about it.”
“those are rocks. right?”
“crystals yeah?”
“and they do something more than decorate?”
“yes lol”
“how”
“google crystal healing methods :)”

canyons don’t go deep enough to explain the depths of my self-loathing for having taken her advice and crawled into this worm hole of googling crystal healing methods. it requires deep breaths to do something you really know you don’t want to do but can’t stop yourself from only for curiosity. always accompanied by the puffing of your cheeks and slow exhale too.

i learned nothing from googling crystal healing methods. i only learned that it’s possible to get angry from googling crystal healing methods.

i mean the fact that she put a fucking smiley face after it only adds to my angst associated with the matter. what the fucking fuck. AND i just had to slap myself in the face as punishment for the split second consideration of googling “is there any science behind healing crystals?” i fucking know there isn’t but half of me wanted to know the right words to use to try to disenchant this poor young lady. actually. i feel evil. i don’t even want to just disenchant her. i want to make her cry.

i don’t know if face/palm is the proper response. if face/palm is supposed to be some sort of mechanism to help one jar the stupidity of what they just heard from their head, then i think i need something more like being tied to the front of a freight train and drove into a brick wall.

“it works amazingly for me!”
“are you familiar with the term self-fulfilling prophecy?”
“very. and it’s not that. thanks for your input on how i should live my life, but i’m good with how i do things :)”

of coooouuuurrrssseee she’s got one of those “i’ma do me” attitudes. i bet she listens to drake.

and another fucking smiley face? “i’ve never hit a girl but i’d shake the shit outta you” — kanye.

these must be the same fucking people that have given airtime to gwyneth paltrow and her absolute scam NASA stickers that claim they can adjust one’s energy. and the same fucking people that think drinking juice is going to “detoxify” their bodies. never mind the suggestion that there are toxic levels of anything there to begin with. you mean to tell me you have the aggregate total of human knowledge as close to you as wherever your phone is and you choose to use all that knowledge to buy into this shit? people want to be tricked.

there’s really no hope. why is it that half the time i have a conversation with an unknown female member of my age group i go away feeling like there’s a pretzel in my head?

i am in actual pain. my brain feels contorted into hopelessness.

one time i was hanging out with this new girl that started working at a place i was working. she was objectively very, very attractive, bubbly, and nice. seemed like a good start. she came over to watch a movie and i suggested life of pi. thought process went something like this — she doesn’t seem all too bright or too deep — let’s just go with a simple story — easy to follow — non-polarizing. which was all well and good. until the fucking monkey got sea sickness and she said “i don’t get why the monkey would get sea sickness like a human?” to which i replied “well, it actually makes sense if you think about it. i mean they share like over 99 percent of our DNA.” to which she said “oh i don’t believe in that stuff.” to which i said “where did humans come from?” to which she said “god made them.”

cue puffy cheek exhale and freight train/brick wall feeling.

i laid there. stoned. unable to untwist my head. staring at the wall. hating where i found myself but still kind of wanting to bang her and hating myself even more for that. ye gods.

there really is no hope. nothing makes me go more awol into “nothing matters and everything is bound for failure” territory than trying to converse with someone who is convinced in the opposite of something with scientific proof.* but a close second would have to be the pointless and mindless portal of consumerism that sucks people in with banners and lifestyle promises about more shit we don’t need.

*(as an aside it’s hardly fair for me to not accept that to some people i fall into this camp myself because i from time to time claim to be religious. why i find that different won’t get space here. i digress.)

i drive east on 394 often in the daylight and west on 394 often in the darkness. at night i never really pay attention to the buildings on the side of the road. in the daylight and in the generally caffeinated mode that i’m in while heading towards work i see this big gnarly apartment building being thrown together. which by itself means nothing. the sprawl of the metro is closing the open spaces between minneapolis and the suburbs. which is also fine. and inevitable. what tickles me about this particular apartment building is the monster banner hanging from the side advertising that the apartment will have minneapolis’ only lazy river pool (heated).

that’s a pool. heated. built specifically to move you so that you can be in motion without any effort. maybe there is a god!

which reminds me of a conversation i had with someone eating at a bar i work at a few weeks ago when i overheard her mention the “valet trash” service at her new apartment. that’s when you just get to set the shit outside the door and someone else comes to take it from you. so that you can never have to even put in the effort of walking to the trash. god forbid. that would present the daunting possibility of running into another human!

i went to the website that the lazy river folks threw together for their monstrosity. i have to admit some of the perks pulled me in a little bit. i was wooed. an indoor rock wall and gardens and a dog wash room with lockers (i don’t have a dog. i just like dogs. i like the idea of living by them.) there’s a yoga deck too but that thing can fuck itself. you yoga-ers have gone too far with this shit. calm down.

anyways, the perks can’t outweigh the fact that there’s absolutely zero soul in any suburban large apartment dwelling arrangement. i know because i’ve stayed in these soul-suckers and if it weren’t for living with amazing roommates i would have turned into a pumpkin or something. there’s just no heart in it. no community center or nice fitness room or amazing wi-fi promises will change that. the best apartment i ever had was a hundred year old building with 5 apartments — all of which were clearly designed to be something other than apartments at their origin. it had character. different strokes for different folks i know i know i know i know I KNOW.

but is a lazy river really a selling point? come on kids. you’ve got to be one lazy cunt to say yes to that question.

it’s really just a reflection of our culture at large. none of us focus on any of the shit we actually should. our politics are focused on issues that in the shadow of the existential threat of climate change can only most accurately be described as fickle — even if they do have real consequences. nearly everyone i know — myself included — spends the majority of their time having quarrels with others or the self about shit that really won’t matter in a month, let alone five years. which is why i really shouldn’t let it get to me if people think that carrying a rock in their pocket will bring them happiness or if having a lazy river on the roof of their apartment will make the year of that lease go from an 8 to a 10. maybe i’m just sitting here deflecting my own shit so i don’t have to deal with it.

palahniuk said that “People don’t want to solve their problems or their dramas. Because they are also their distractions. If you fix all your mess all you have left is the big, scary unknown.”

i’m all bummed out from the stupidity and the rocks conversation and all the joyous charm i felt primed with from laughing for an hour straight watching larry david before driving into the city has been sucked dry. and i have to work in an hour. i need a mood lift. maybe there’s a rock for that.

--

find a ninth path. this is water. zorbatheminnesotan@gmail.com

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