pure as the cold driven snow

i have today off! poor bolshevik had to leave for work oh-so-early this morning while i relaxed in bed watching episodes of the office. he he he he. anyway, once well rested, i decided to do a massive and much needed cleaning of the paradise bathroom! yay! it's super clean and shiny in there now. and while i was walking to the closest laundromat to wash my bathmat a man yelled "snowflake" at me. what is this? library in the hood? i am home, damnit! keep your racist remarks to yourself! i only take that shit at work!

now, i realize i went to the "project side" of the street to do laundry, but shouldn't i be able to walk around the block without it being brought to my attention that i am in fact white? the other laundromat is several blocks away and more expensive. the worst part was that instead of actually saying snowflake to my face, he waited until i had walked past him and then he said it loudly like he was coughing, but he was obviously saying "snowflake." and when i looked around i was the only snowy colored person in the vicinity.

i didn't say anything to him. i just kept walking. but i want to know, what is the point of that? does it make you feel good about yourself? do you feel more like a man? oh, you win big tough black man. i'm just a fragile little snowflake. i'll stay on my side of the street from now on.

we just call him god

why have my posts become so religious? or are they anti-religious?

the other day i was standing on the sidewalk, waiting for the lovely man at the autoshop to patch my flat tire ... a young man walked by and said good morning to me. i hate greeting strangers in public. i am a friendly person. i love meeting new people. but i do not want to talk to unknown people when i'm out and about trying to run errands. much like my strong feelings against getting to know one's neighbors. it's not that i'm rude, i just enjoy minding my own business. anyway, i was feeling generous so i smiled and said good morning.

a few minutes later he returned, smiling at me and saying that he hoped that everything was okay with my car. at this point i assumed he was trying to hit on me, so i went into defense mode.

me: it'll be fine thanks (please read: leave me the hell alone)

guy: is there anything i can do to help?

me: i think these autoshop guys have it covered

guy: i think i have some reading material that may interest you

me: i'm sure it won't

guy: well why don't you check it out

then he rummages through his bag and gives me a leaflet entitled "Being Saved by Jesus" or something like that. as soon as i see the word "jesus" i put my hands up and back away like he's trying to hand me molten lava.

me: no! sorry! i don't believe in jesus! (then i shield my eyes from said pamphlet)

guy: jesus is the only one who can save you. god wants you to accept his son as the one true savior.

me: god likes me just fine thanks.

guy: god loves everyone, but in order to be saved by god you must be baptised.

me: no, my god doesn't care if you're baptised. my god only wants you to be a good person.

guy: who is your god?

me: huh?

guy: what is your god's name?

me: we just call him god.

i can understand how back in the good old days of preachin' and convertin', missionaries could use all sorts of magic tricks and brainwashing to get innocent tribal people to fall for this stuff. but really, an on-the-street conversion? in brooklyn? does that ever work? what is the success rate of this practice? does your average jew-on-the-street ever denounce their faith after reading a short pamphlet? do heathens ever see the error of their ways because some complete stranger told them that if they didn't, they weren't going to get to bounce around on clouds in the afterlife? please. behaviors like this just reinforce my strong feelings against interacting with others.

my adventures with captain caveman

after a lovely yom kippur weekend on strong island i come home and my roommate invites me out to a local watering hole for a few drinks. of course this place is packed with annoying hipsters celebrating a recent kickball league triumph. but luckily this place serves drinks in large styrofoam to-go cups so we have our drinks outside. now, i don't know what it was, maybe female intuition, but i just KNEW that we would meet eligible men on this autumn night. so there we are, a bunch of cute single girls, sitting on a park bench, drinking beer out of large styrofoam cups. who could ask for anything more?
and then we see him. ooooh, ladies watch out! he was across the park from us riding his bike wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts and a strange satchel hanging around his neck. his scraggly beard ending somewhere between his nipples and his bellybutton. it was hard to tell where his mane of hair ended and the beard began.
he rode by a few times, showing off his moves. my roommate and i exchanged glances. we knew we would not escape without talking to him.
so first he approaches and tells us how expensive his bike is. he speaks with a thick eastern european jewish accent. then he shows us how his front tire is bent. oh, the tragedy.
finally he starts asking us where we are from and we all, in unison, lie and say we are not from around here. then he asks us if we are jewish and we all say no, including me and my jewish friend. my jewish friend quickly tells him that she is a born again muslim. then tells him to leave us alone. from that point on he refers to her as the very rude muslim.
i honestly cannot recall what we discussed but i somehow convinced him to allow me to take his picture. he has covered his face so that the papparazzi can't recognize him. then he shows me a digital camera he "found" in the park and i teach him how to use it. he is not quick to pick it up, even after we take a few test shots.
then all at once, possibly the pack mentality in effect, we all decide it is time to return to the bar. which we do. and he rides off into the sunset. and that was my sunday night.

i am all aspects of snow

you can also call me 'snow white.' just wanted to let you know, just in case you were looking for new racial epithets to call me. that one works too apparently.