Post by Lantlas on Feb 6, 2007 23:52:37 GMT -5
"Are You Two Brothers?"
My friend Sam, who was Asian, decided to stop in a few minutes after the mystery shop event. At one point, he’d worked with us at MovieXPress, but had since found better things to do. I’d missed working with him, cause he could make even the dreariest day in retail just a little more fun. Sam took one look up at the trailer tape, then turned to me with a confused expression on his face.
“Did I hear that right?”
That could mean quite a few things. “If you were a little less vague, maybe I could accurately answer that question.”
“Leave it to the Asian to be the bad detective… If we’re not doing martial arts, we don’t get the parts.”
I tried hard to think of an Asian detective, but my mind was drawing a blank. “Well, if you could be an Asian Detective in a movie, who would you be?”
“I don’t know, I think I’d have to only be half-Asian so that more than the martial arts fans would watch it.”
“Didn’t they try that with ‘Rush Hour’?”
“No, Jackie Chan was full Asian… They just paired him with Chris Tucker to bring in the other viewers. And he still did martial arts.”
“I know,” I suggested. “You could be the detective who tracks down detectives who aren’t really detectives but just posing as detectives in order to… detect things.”
“Pseudo-detectives?”
“Indeed,” I confirmed.
“Sam Wu, detective of detectives… I like it.”
“Dude, we totally strayed from the point here,” I noted. “What didn’t you hear right on the trailer tape?”
“Well,” he responded, “you know that little commercial for donating to the charities?”
“Yes,” I groaned, knowing that commercial played more often than anything else on the tape, since it was on there THREE TIMES. “What about it?”
“The promotion on there is if you donate a dollar to the charity fund, you get a sticker, right?”
“Yes.”
“But they say it’s a free sticker. Correct me if I’m wrong, but if you have to give a dollar to get the sticker, I do not believe it is a free sticker. It’s a one-dollar sticker.”
“Because you’re not directly paying for the sticker?” I proposed.
“Yes you are, the commercial says it… Give a dollar, get a free sticker. It’s not free!”
“And you say you wouldn’t make a good detective,” I laughed. “Who else would have the time and energy to pay that much attention to a commercial?”
“I…” he stuttered, “um… shut up or I’ll have you arrested.”
“You can do that?” I playfully responded in fear.
“I don’t know, do you feel lucky?”
As we continued our mindless nonsense, a customer was approaching with a couple of movies in hand. As I deactivated the security from them, he was giving me an odd look. “Did you find everything all right?”
“Yes,” the man replied, “I was just listening to you two argue.”
“Oh, we weren’t really arguing,” I explained. “Just having some sarcastic fun.”
“Oh,” he responded. “Are you two brothers?”
Sam and I froze, and stared at each other. Me, a tall skinny white boy and Sam, who was… Asian. Someone had taken the time to both listen to us talk and see us standing next to each other, and had just asked if we were…
“I’m adopted,” Sam replied. “My real name is Quang Ping, but now I go by Sam cause Alex’s parents wouldn’t hear of names that started with a Q. They’re anti-Q people. They protested the Dairy Queen when it opened.”
“Really, what do they have against the letter Q?”
“It sounds like it should be ‘kw’, but it’s not. That infuriates them,” I very sarcastically added. I couldn’t believe this guy was buying this crap.
“That’s right,” Sam proclaimed. “We need to rid the world of Q’s… They always have to have the letter U after them anyway… This country is free, and the last thing we need are dependent letters!”
“They’re a such a drag on the economy.”
The customer soaked all of this in, and I could tell by the intrigued expression on his face that he was still taking us seriously. I didn’t bother asking him about any of the add-ons, because well, I really didn’t care anymore. Threw the movies in the bag and watched him walk out the door, then bursted out laughing.
“Did that really just happen?”
“I think it did,” I confirmed.
“Wow,” was all either of us could say. I couldn’t wait to tell Brian this little story. I wondered if he could actually top this one. Maybe I’d actually win for once!
After the laughter died down, I noticed the pin on Sam’s shirt. “Hey, I didn’t know you were working at the furniture rental place. How’s that going for you?”
“If you enjoy trying to lift a washer up a flight of stairs that can barely hold your weight, let alone theirs, it’s quite entertaining.”
“Really?”
“Oh definitely,” he continued. “It’s like the people who come in and rent living room sets that are almost six feet wide, but only have doorways that are about three feet wide. They get mad at us when the furniture they rented, knowing full well the size of their own doors, won’t fit through them.”
“Ever have to carry some of those big screen TVs to the eighteenth floor?” I asked.
“With no elevator? You better believe it.”
“Bet it’s a good workout at least,” I suggested.
“Yes, but then you get to go back to the store, where they have the trailer tape on all the TVs in the entire store.”
“There’s a trailer tape in a furniture rental store?”
“There is.”
“Why does there need to be a trailer tape in a furniture rental store?”
“To test out the televisions, I guess.”
“And a movie wouldn’t suffice?” I asked.
“Someone would probably find a way to be offended by it,” Sam groaned. “That movie looks too big on that screen! How dare you insult us with that high definition? Are you implying we should do drugs?”
“Down to the depths with crystal clear plasma TVs!”
“And those Satan-influenced G-rated animated movies as well!” I added.
“No, those really are the devil… Every one that’s come out in the last five years has the exact same plot with different animals and celebrities doing the voices.”
“Don’t they also imply that animals who would normally be killing each other can talk and get along?”
“A tiger getting along with a bunny rabbit, why the hell not?”
“I think that’s more dangerous than violence in movies,” I laughed as I continued. “The Jungle Book promotes the idea that a bear and a human can sing together in harmony, and I’ve never seen a bear suddenly get up and start doing the Hand Jive. I declare shenanigans on that one!”
“Definitely. Bears have no rhythm, so they’ll eat you and then do the dance, so no one can witness their bad form.”
“Should’ve warned the Grizzly Man to not suggest Chubby Checker for game night.”
“If only we’d known,” I pseudo-sympathetically cried.
“Also, do you think animals wouldn’t use foul language?” Sam asked. “These are the creatures who kill each other mercilessly, but they speak so nice and politely… Does it work?”
“Are you kidding? I can’t imagine a giraffe dropping an f-bomb after he and a zebra realized they both have stripes but they’re just different colors.”
“Giraffes don’t have stripes, they have spots,” Sam corrected.
“It’s a cover-up,” I replied. “If you see their stripes, they kill you.”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell in the animal world, eh?”
“An offer you can’t refuse.”
“Alex!” A familiar voice broke into the conversation.
“Yes, dear?”
The boss’s face looked confused before it changed back to anger. “What did I tell you about having your friends hang out here?”
“To leave the kegs in the van til after eight?”
“Very funny,” he snapped. “Don’t push your luck any more than you already have.”
“How do you push luck? Sam inquired. “I really don’t think it’s physically possible to exert motion against an idea.”
“Leave, now!”
“Change your tampon once in a while,” Sam muttered as he walked out the door. The boss started to respond, but couldn’t think of a comeback to that comment. He left to go back to the office in frustration. Somehow, that was quite satisfying to see.
Prick.
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My friend Sam, who was Asian, decided to stop in a few minutes after the mystery shop event. At one point, he’d worked with us at MovieXPress, but had since found better things to do. I’d missed working with him, cause he could make even the dreariest day in retail just a little more fun. Sam took one look up at the trailer tape, then turned to me with a confused expression on his face.
“Did I hear that right?”
That could mean quite a few things. “If you were a little less vague, maybe I could accurately answer that question.”
“Leave it to the Asian to be the bad detective… If we’re not doing martial arts, we don’t get the parts.”
I tried hard to think of an Asian detective, but my mind was drawing a blank. “Well, if you could be an Asian Detective in a movie, who would you be?”
“I don’t know, I think I’d have to only be half-Asian so that more than the martial arts fans would watch it.”
“Didn’t they try that with ‘Rush Hour’?”
“No, Jackie Chan was full Asian… They just paired him with Chris Tucker to bring in the other viewers. And he still did martial arts.”
“I know,” I suggested. “You could be the detective who tracks down detectives who aren’t really detectives but just posing as detectives in order to… detect things.”
“Pseudo-detectives?”
“Indeed,” I confirmed.
“Sam Wu, detective of detectives… I like it.”
“Dude, we totally strayed from the point here,” I noted. “What didn’t you hear right on the trailer tape?”
“Well,” he responded, “you know that little commercial for donating to the charities?”
“Yes,” I groaned, knowing that commercial played more often than anything else on the tape, since it was on there THREE TIMES. “What about it?”
“The promotion on there is if you donate a dollar to the charity fund, you get a sticker, right?”
“Yes.”
“But they say it’s a free sticker. Correct me if I’m wrong, but if you have to give a dollar to get the sticker, I do not believe it is a free sticker. It’s a one-dollar sticker.”
“Because you’re not directly paying for the sticker?” I proposed.
“Yes you are, the commercial says it… Give a dollar, get a free sticker. It’s not free!”
“And you say you wouldn’t make a good detective,” I laughed. “Who else would have the time and energy to pay that much attention to a commercial?”
“I…” he stuttered, “um… shut up or I’ll have you arrested.”
“You can do that?” I playfully responded in fear.
“I don’t know, do you feel lucky?”
As we continued our mindless nonsense, a customer was approaching with a couple of movies in hand. As I deactivated the security from them, he was giving me an odd look. “Did you find everything all right?”
“Yes,” the man replied, “I was just listening to you two argue.”
“Oh, we weren’t really arguing,” I explained. “Just having some sarcastic fun.”
“Oh,” he responded. “Are you two brothers?”
Sam and I froze, and stared at each other. Me, a tall skinny white boy and Sam, who was… Asian. Someone had taken the time to both listen to us talk and see us standing next to each other, and had just asked if we were…
“I’m adopted,” Sam replied. “My real name is Quang Ping, but now I go by Sam cause Alex’s parents wouldn’t hear of names that started with a Q. They’re anti-Q people. They protested the Dairy Queen when it opened.”
“Really, what do they have against the letter Q?”
“It sounds like it should be ‘kw’, but it’s not. That infuriates them,” I very sarcastically added. I couldn’t believe this guy was buying this crap.
“That’s right,” Sam proclaimed. “We need to rid the world of Q’s… They always have to have the letter U after them anyway… This country is free, and the last thing we need are dependent letters!”
“They’re a such a drag on the economy.”
The customer soaked all of this in, and I could tell by the intrigued expression on his face that he was still taking us seriously. I didn’t bother asking him about any of the add-ons, because well, I really didn’t care anymore. Threw the movies in the bag and watched him walk out the door, then bursted out laughing.
“Did that really just happen?”
“I think it did,” I confirmed.
“Wow,” was all either of us could say. I couldn’t wait to tell Brian this little story. I wondered if he could actually top this one. Maybe I’d actually win for once!
After the laughter died down, I noticed the pin on Sam’s shirt. “Hey, I didn’t know you were working at the furniture rental place. How’s that going for you?”
“If you enjoy trying to lift a washer up a flight of stairs that can barely hold your weight, let alone theirs, it’s quite entertaining.”
“Really?”
“Oh definitely,” he continued. “It’s like the people who come in and rent living room sets that are almost six feet wide, but only have doorways that are about three feet wide. They get mad at us when the furniture they rented, knowing full well the size of their own doors, won’t fit through them.”
“Ever have to carry some of those big screen TVs to the eighteenth floor?” I asked.
“With no elevator? You better believe it.”
“Bet it’s a good workout at least,” I suggested.
“Yes, but then you get to go back to the store, where they have the trailer tape on all the TVs in the entire store.”
“There’s a trailer tape in a furniture rental store?”
“There is.”
“Why does there need to be a trailer tape in a furniture rental store?”
“To test out the televisions, I guess.”
“And a movie wouldn’t suffice?” I asked.
“Someone would probably find a way to be offended by it,” Sam groaned. “That movie looks too big on that screen! How dare you insult us with that high definition? Are you implying we should do drugs?”
“Down to the depths with crystal clear plasma TVs!”
“And those Satan-influenced G-rated animated movies as well!” I added.
“No, those really are the devil… Every one that’s come out in the last five years has the exact same plot with different animals and celebrities doing the voices.”
“Don’t they also imply that animals who would normally be killing each other can talk and get along?”
“A tiger getting along with a bunny rabbit, why the hell not?”
“I think that’s more dangerous than violence in movies,” I laughed as I continued. “The Jungle Book promotes the idea that a bear and a human can sing together in harmony, and I’ve never seen a bear suddenly get up and start doing the Hand Jive. I declare shenanigans on that one!”
“Definitely. Bears have no rhythm, so they’ll eat you and then do the dance, so no one can witness their bad form.”
“Should’ve warned the Grizzly Man to not suggest Chubby Checker for game night.”
“If only we’d known,” I pseudo-sympathetically cried.
“Also, do you think animals wouldn’t use foul language?” Sam asked. “These are the creatures who kill each other mercilessly, but they speak so nice and politely… Does it work?”
“Are you kidding? I can’t imagine a giraffe dropping an f-bomb after he and a zebra realized they both have stripes but they’re just different colors.”
“Giraffes don’t have stripes, they have spots,” Sam corrected.
“It’s a cover-up,” I replied. “If you see their stripes, they kill you.”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell in the animal world, eh?”
“An offer you can’t refuse.”
“Alex!” A familiar voice broke into the conversation.
“Yes, dear?”
The boss’s face looked confused before it changed back to anger. “What did I tell you about having your friends hang out here?”
“To leave the kegs in the van til after eight?”
“Very funny,” he snapped. “Don’t push your luck any more than you already have.”
“How do you push luck? Sam inquired. “I really don’t think it’s physically possible to exert motion against an idea.”
“Leave, now!”
“Change your tampon once in a while,” Sam muttered as he walked out the door. The boss started to respond, but couldn’t think of a comeback to that comment. He left to go back to the office in frustration. Somehow, that was quite satisfying to see.
Prick.
Help me get this read on the web... www.fictionpress.com/s/2231693/8/ scroll to the bottom of the page, at the bottom left, click the submit review button.