aQuaTIP

The SA: Disappointment and Hotness

This post is really about two things: 1) The term "SA" and; 2) The really hot guy that was at the SA.

When I first arrived in the Twin Cities I heard some twenty-something post-emo kids on the bus refer to "Essay" and then some fifty-something punk at a bar mentioned "Essay" to the waitress.  At the time I thought to myself, "Well, that must be an awfully neat place to draw these two different sorts of people and it has a pretty great name for a place--I wonder if they have energetic readings or something."  That sort of thing...

Well, finally I was driving with someone and they said that we had to stop for gas at "Essay" and I was floored that it was a gas station and then we pull up to the station--"Essay" was clearly "SA" which stands for Super American, a chain of gas stations.

I was very disappointed.

Today I take a walk up to the SA and there, standing at one of the cash registers, working, is this hot Latino kid I saw at least a year ago ago down in Midway.  The pink strip is gone from his hair, but I wasn't a big fan of it in the first place.  He was dressed for work, so I'm wondering if maybe he was just there because someone else didn't show up or something?  Perhaps he works at a different SA.

This is more just a random, rather boring story being told to whatever audience is reading this.

I've seen him on the bus a few times too and but today when I got up to the counter, we chatted finally.. just a little bit longer than would have be normal for cashier-customer relations.. a boy can dream.

That does make me wonder, on a higher level, how much can that sort of attraction influence the perception of conversations and is that difference in the perception of the reality of a social interaction chemical or psychological?

Dear Dex

An e-mail written by roommate Klein to Qwest Dex--

Dear Dex:

I'm writing to thank you for the 57lbs of soggy phone books that I found sitting on my step the other morning.  Lucky I don't live in New York City!  I will be grateful for these if I ever forget how to use the internet and everyone in Minneapolis stops using cell phones and switches back to land lines for fear of further reducing the bee population. 

As I lugged them down to the curb for recycling, I couldn't help but think that if the man-hours and energy used to print, distribute, and recycle these phone books had been exported as volunteer labor to third-world countries, I estimate we could have prevented 1,700 children from contracting AIDS in Africa.

Jeff Klein
Minneapolis, MN

Red Bus Rider Light?

After I steped off the bus and crossed the street on the way home from work yesterday I saw a guy walking from another bus and then down my street.

He was wearing a navy blue corduroy jacket with elbow patches (that looked as though they weren't needed) over a white t-shirt--he was also a white guy with dreads.  He wore a pack over his shoulder and on the pack was a red rear light for bicycling. 

These lights are fairly common on bicyclists--I use one as well.  They can either be mounted to the back seat post of your bike or you can clip one onto your pack.  They are also, aside from their utility as safety devices for the twilight and night time cyclists, a vital component of a particular "look" I'm starting to think has gotten silly.

One of the regulars over on MNSpeak.com has commented that on any given night at the Triple Rock there are about four times as many bike messengers than there are bike messengers in the whole metro area.  That alone isn't that onerous bit to me because at least the sort of culture they are reproducing is largely authentic (bottom-up, as opposed to the sort of almost-culture that's fed top-down), but where I start to get annoyed is where this particular cultural accoutrement starts to crop up in other styles. Sure, perhaps the guy was biking, but I'm sure he wasn't.

Our street is home to a particular commuting pattern.  People on their way to the University of Minnesota will park in our neighborhood to avoid the steep parking fees on campus and then they will hop on a bus and go down to the U.  In this case, the guy got off of the bus and into his car, which he proceeded to drive too quickly through our neighborhood.

Maybe he was driving to his bike or busing from his bike (using a grand total of three modes of transportation) to complete his commute to and from where ever he was going.  Or maybe not.  I doubt that biking was a part of his regular day and so he probably didn't need to have the red light clipped to his back.

It's cultural appropriation from a guy that appears to already be committed to appropriating as much as he can. How many bits is he going to mix together before he's completely indecipherable?