Once a Year is Enough

Today, I made rolls for four hours. I'll be eating them for months. I used the recipe my grandmother got off some guy that used to be a cook on a cement boat. (That's a boat that hauls cement, not a boat made of cement.) We used to make them every Christmas. With how I eat, I'll be pulling the last few out of the freezer towards the end of March. The recipe makes a lot and they're not exactly health food. I left the dough to rise in a huge metal dishpan. It's too much food. Every year I mean to scale it back. It's a huge amount of work to make them, too. The most advanced ingredients are canned milk and yeast. But they taste good. The kitchen was a wreck afterwards. I have to go back later and finish cleaning up.

Along the theme of the post, I almost never rent movies. Once a year is pushing it. I see most of what I want to see at the theaters, usually a weekend or so after opening night. If I want to see it more than once, I'm probably going to want to see it at 3 AM or something and the local rental business closes at midnight. I scared the hell out of a girl working there last year when I walked up at 12:30 to shove one in their deposit slot. Anyway, I decided this year that instead of sitting through holiday boredom, or watching any of the DVDs I mentioned that I intend to watch, I was going to pick up three or four movies to space over a couple of days. I wanted to have a little Quentin Tarantino film festival. I've seen Kill Bill (both parts), and the last quarter of Pulp Fiction was on one of the movie channels a few weeks ago. I enjoyed that too. So I figured I'd get those and snag Reservoir Dogs too. It would be a mix of old and new stuff.

Back in the old days, the rental places had a stupidly diverse selection. I remember going into a glorified gas station with Dad and getting lost in the stacks they used to have. It's not like that anymore. I couldn't find anything except the first part of Kill Bill, which I've seen way too many times to care about on its own. If they had the second part too, I'd be there. No such luck. So much for that idea.

Once a year is also enough for me to run into Kim in the outside world. I was at Walmart around 8:30 yesterday buying the junk for rolls. I had everything and decided to run by the DVDs while I was there. I just made it into the clothing section, with the little girls' clothes on one side and baby stuff on the other when I heard "Hey Midnight Wanderer!" No, not really. She used my name. It would be worth running into her if she called out, "Hey Vampire Heathen!" though.

You know how your own name jumps out of the background noise? This was like that. I didn't realize it was her until I stopped for a second. By then I was caught. I had a cart so I couldn't really vanish into the crowd, plus I had my hood down and how many other pale, bald guys are walking around Walmart? I wish Walmart sold some really dirty, weird pornography. I'd go and grab something about people from Lithuania that like to have men with the bubonic plague hit them across the face with giant rubber casts shaped like Stalin while they all play out the Battle of Gettysburg and carry that around the whole store. No one would bother me. I could just leave it in the bags of chips at the check out.

Kim comes up to me and she tries to strike up a conversation. I'm being as transparently non-responsive as I can be.

"I caught you!"
"I wasn't trying to escape."
"I think I could probably outrun you anyway."
"Well yeah, but I could throw the cart in your way."

She's being her hyper-perky, intensely happy Jesus-self. Kim told me once in her church they believe that people are only ever upset or depressed for any length of time because they know they're wrong to reject Jesus. It's guilt. So it's really important to be happy all the time or someone might think you don't care about Christianity. I guess they must all be this forced. Then she sees what's in the cart and she starts offering her opinion about when to eat rolls and all this stuff. I'm just making indifferent noises here.

Kim told me I must be really happy today. Um, why? I told her I was just having a normal day and then realized that she thinks hostility is a sign of happiness. That explains so much about her. Then she had errands to run and needed to go. She can keep me stuck in the middle of Walmart with no interest in talking to her for ten minutes, but she's on a deadline. Whatever. She promised to get back to me about that documentary. I didn't bring it up; I'm not that dumb.