1. I saw a guy wearing whites and a chef’s hat walking into a local convenience store.
I figured, maybe he ran out of salt? Pepper? Sugar? It could happen.
On my way back a few minutes later I saw him coming out of the store carrying one of those cardboard trays, which contained several coffees “to go.” WTF?
Yo, you’re a farookin’ chef. Put on a pot!
2. I walked past a black kid in his late teens who was waiting for a bus. He was wearing a too-large, flat-brimmed Yankee baseball cap turned sideways and baggy pants just slightly south of the beginning of his asscrack. He was also wearing a black and white keffiyeh around his neck. I know that the black and white keffiyeh is a “symbol of Palestinian heritage,” but I think I am safe in assuming that this kid’s heritage is more like … Newark.
I really wanted to stop and ask him in a very friendly, non-confrontational way why he was wearing a keffiyeh, but I didn’t, because IJ decided that there isn’t a single possible answer he could have given me that would have convinced me that he was anything other than an asshole. Besides, I really don’t feature tangling ass with a kid one-third my age, even though I’m sure I could have easily jacked his pants down around his ankles (they were one-third of the way there already) and as he was doing the penguin walk, kick him in the stindeens.
I’ve had better groundpounds.