afloat in a moat...

Okay, so I’ve provided my views of recent politics and ranted about a certain candidate of late whom I despise, and in the process annoyed at least one of the readers of this blog. Since this particular reader matters to me and one who gave me shelter during my formative years, I will try today to provide a non-political, more upbeat entry.

Not that I’m necessarily cheery this afternoon, but I am excited that I’ll be riding my bike tomorrow night. Yup…that really is all it takes to excite me. Considering I’ve not ridden now for nine days, I’m getting antsy and grumpy. I did not work out at the gym last night and that was a bad call. I will be reporting to the leg machine area this evening and tearing them down, so I’ll have a chance to make up for it.

Last night, I choose instead to drive into Pasadena to return my bike-blingy - the VDO computer. It sucks. Or…er…rather, I suck. I can’t figure out gadgets, and the VDO is a uniquely complicated one. Written on the box it comes in, is a warning that one must RTF (read the f’ng manual) from cover-to-cover before even attempting to turn the damn thing on. I don’t have time to RTF. I simply want a bike computer that turns on and tells me the speed, overall mileage, ride time and altitude. And if it will tell me I’m fabulous, that would be nice, too. But I cannot RTF just to turn it on! Sheesh!

Before I returned the VDO to Performance Bicycles (whom I’ve now decided is my new favorite local bike shop – LBS), I decided to visit Crate N Barrel to get my $180 back for a bookcase I ordered but never took home and assembled. I bought it on an evening that I was in Pasadena at the Melting Pot restaurant for a friend’s birthday party. I had consumed a cocktail but no big meal and was walking around Pasadena to ensure I was perfectly sober to drive. In the process, I ended up perusing CnB and bought the bookcase while still in that rosy state one generally finds oneself after consuming a libation. Therefore, I “drunk shopped,” although I certainly was not technically inebriated. I was foolish enough to believe the 20-something saleslady who convinced me that it would fit in my Nissan. Since there were none in stock except the floor model (already assembled), they placed a back-order for me.

When I arrived two weeks later to pick up the bookcase, suffice it to say, it did not fit, not even close (unless I wanted to strap it to the roof), and I had to leave it at the store. Although Herb and a couple of other very sweet men offered to drive me out in their trucks to pick it up and help me haul it up my steps and into my apartment, I had fallen out of love with it the minute I tried shoving it into my too-small automobile. It just seemed big and clumsy. Besides, I have a bookcase just like it only not as nice. I wanted to upgrade, but really, do I need to spend that money on something I already have? Cocktails are bad, bad for both driving and shopping. Listen to me. Do not drink and shop!

Well, yesterday it had been over a month since I originally tried to pick up the bookcase, and I wanted my money back. After a few brief seconds of frantically digging for the receipt in my trash-truck car (my apartment got cleaned this past weekend, but my vehicle did not and it’s far worse than my apartment ever was in terms of utter destruction), I finally had it in hand and was ready to sweet talk the CnB manager into giving me a full refund without dinging me with a “restock fee.” I’m very good at this sweet-talkin’ thing. I just put on my thick, southern draw and blink a lot. It generally works with men and sometimes with women – although, since they likely rely on a similar method to my own, I am at times caught in my own act. Well, I’m happy to report that the excessive blinking and sugary accent worked last night, but more so because I think I just talked the manager into submission. I also peppered my plea to receive a full refund with, “I love CnB and your service was impeccable. I just think the saleslady who sold me the bookcase thought a four-door Nissan was larger than it actually is.” I reassured them that I’d be returning to purchase future merchandise by the boatload, and that this was so very rare (my returning anything to CnB). I was given back the entire amount I paid and sent on my merry way with little finger waves (which usually means, “tootaloo, and now get the f*ck out”)

With my pocket book a little fatter and a sudden appetite, I decided to head over to an establishment in Pasadena that I only frequent when in a hurry and not wanting any fuss. Its name is Afloat Sushi . It’s an odd place where they put little trays of fresh sushi on wooden, toy boats that float around in a moat along the sushi bar. You choose the sushi you want off of these floating sushi yachts. I like this place as their prices are pretty cheap (for me, anyway, since I eat the less complicated sushi) and fast. So, I popped in there, ate a light dinner and had the joy of watching a mother and daughter fight over their meal. The daughter could have been no older than four, so you can imagine the argument I was privy to – “No! I don’t want it. Ewey, it’s stinky!”


Apparently, children are wiser than us adults and accept that raw fish is really quite ewey. I was rooting for the child and pleased she won. Her mother stopped trying to get her to choose raw fish on rice and, instead, let the girl choose her own.



She chose a plate of cucumber-tomato-orange salad (bliss), a California Roll and some edamame. I would like it noted that the four year old and I had an identical dinner. Smart kid.

Anyway, the rest of my evening was uneventful. I returned the VDO to my LBS successfully (creating an even fatter wallet - Yay!) and drove home to my perfectly spotless apartment. I did snap a pic of the sunset out my car's filthy windshield on the drive home. The pic does it zero justice, of course, but trust me, it was fantastic to the naked eye. That’s one nice thing about the smog out here – it makes for magical sunsets.