I’m so torn, guys, seriously. I have this amusing story from last night, but I also uploaded a bunch of shit to Flickr, and I want to whore out my photos and get comments and views and stuff.

This entry is in honor of jenny and her hot new hair.

I hate the Shaw’s in East Boston. There’s some problem whenever I go there. One Saturday morning took me 45 minutes to buy a carton of eggs and a stick of butter, and if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s an unnecesarily extended errand. But it’s so much cheaper than Whole Foods, sometimes I just have to suck it up and deal. So last night I’m driving home from work with the intent of making burritos. I had the frozen fake meat stuff already, slowly melting in my passenger seat, and as I pulled into the parking lot, I gathered my powers to make this the fastest Shaw’s trip ever.

I was distracted, though, by some %50 off anti-wrinkle cream in the body care aisle, and attracted the attention of a young man wearing a soccer jersey. He found me again in the frozen foods section, scanning for discount mint-chocolate-chip.

“hello” he said, as I tried my best to ignore him.

“um, you can help me?” broken english. fuck.

“I, ah, from France. Paris, you know?” yes, i know paris. no, i don’t speak French. and no, your accent does not sound the slightest bit Parisian.

“Ah, I live with my brother. In ah, Mavereeck?” maverick square, right. “you live also in Mavereeck?” no, i live over there. i point.

“I, ah, how you say, I look for, ah, potato.”

…

Potato.

he needs help finding… A Potato. I tried to make my face a mask of “What the Fuck are you Talking about you Crazy Pretend Frenchman”, but he persisted.

“ok, ok, you finish, then you help me”

Gesturing to my cart, I tried to explain that I can’t help him, I have to go home and put my ice cream away before it melts. Truth be told, I’m more concerned about the Boca meat in the car, but I figured that “Boca Meat” wouldn’t translate, and I really wanted to get away from him.

“ah, ok, i walk with you.”

He tried to push my cart for me, but I resisted, but he wouldn’t NOT PUSH the cart, so we wound up pushing the cart together while he asked me where liked to go on vacation. His grasp of the native tongue was less than stellar, but I still couldn’t see how that would influence his ability to find a potato. As we stood in line at the checkout, he told me how his brother, who was not married, had asked him to make dinner, but since they are both men and therefore unable to cook, he was having trouble deciding what to make. I suggested he buy some frozen food and throw it in the microwave, and used the opportunity to mention how I lived with my FIANCEE and was cooking dinner for him. Because, obviously, that’s what women do.

Together we pushed my cart out to the parking lot.

“you have a car?” he asked, and i considered lying just so he wouldn’t ask me for a ride. “can i see you again?”

And you know, I was actually relieved. The whole scenario had been so bizarre that I really thought he was planning to take me out behind the loading docks and shoot me, but really, it was just a horribly botched attempt at a pass.

Note to guys: if you are trying to pick up girls in supermarkets, please have a better plan than donning some fake accent and asking where is the potato.

Here is a picture of the best NYC subway map ever made.

please peruse the other photographs at your leisure.