December 19: dinner and shopping.









First, we went crazy over some fantastic tom-kha soup and basil eggplant at Thai Food Cafe on Killingsworth. Then we went to the mall, where I got called "old" by a Marshall's cashier who may have thought I was being anti-Semitic because 1.] I don't look like the self-hating Jew I am, and B.] I don't think Adam Sandler's "Hanukkah Song" is much better than the Xmas crap they play on an endless loop in these stores. I would have verbally torn the kid a new ass, but A.] I am old, and 2.] my heart goes out to any member of the tribe who's forced to work entry-level retail, even some punkass kid in this shitty economy. Then I apparently got hit on by a handsome guy at the Brookstone store; my gaydar clearly needs a new viewscreen, because I had no clue that was going on until after my shopping partner all but gave me a high-five and credited this reignited attractiveness to my new pants.

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