Shrimpy and the Butt

Monday's seem to be my slow days. I can and do get some stuff done, but it takes so much longer on a Monday than on any other day of the week. Weird. So, since it is Monday, and I just found out I have a few extra days to work on an assignment (and a few less days for another assignment) I naturally decided it would be best to postpone working on either of the assignments and write. O yes. That stuff can wait, because it always always gets done, sooner or later, and always by the date it is due. Though, if I were a smarty pants I would work ahead and not let the stress and anxiety of not knowing if I am going to finish in time get to me. But I am not. So I do not. And at the last minute (literally, I have one minute to turn in the assignment, I start it and somehow manage to still turn it in on time. A-mazing) turn it in. It's my secret talent... that is not so secret any more since I just told you. woops. eh... well, at least it's not thaaat secret.

So anyways. This weekend the hubs took me on a trip. For my early birthday present we went to San Fransisco. We had been there a few weekends before, but we only got to see a few of the sights and had to come back early for a class that I ended up not even having. O brother. So we went back. We saw the Golden Gate Bridge. Had a little picnic at the beach, went swimming... you know, as much as the frigid water would allow us to. I only ended up with frostbite on my little toe, the hubs managed unscathed. Then, after that... we went to prison. It's true.

But first we had to wait in line. Apparently everyone wanted to go to prison with us. We're just that hip. So we waited. While we were waiting in line a family was snacking on some fried shrimp. A little bowl of red dipping sauce came along with the shrimp. The people were dunking their shrimps in the red sauce and then stuffing it in their face. They seemed to like their shrimps. A lot. But then... wo and behold... the man dropped his shrimps, and his red dipping sauce. In slow motion I watched it happen. The little red and white checkered box slipped from his hand and sailed to the not so hot cement. Then it bounced back up... splashing all those standing near by the shrimp man. A man was standing minding his own business, not gobbling up shrimp, just chit-chatting with his family. He was sporting his favorite sports team (the Giant Bears ... or something) in a nice white sweatshirt with tiny black stripes on it. Shrimp Man's red dipping sauce bounced back on Sport's white sweatshirt, and the seat of his pants. Sport's kids told him what happened and he turned as much as he could to get a good look. Red sauce was all over the seat of his pants and his nice sports gear. Shrimpy saw where his red dipping sauce landed and started apologizing profusely. But it didn't stop there... nooooooo. Not for Shrimpy. He takes his napkin and proceeds to wipe Sport's butt. yup. One man wiping a stranger's butt. nice.

The hubs is dying. He grabs me so he won't fall dead on the ground. "He's wiping his butt?! Are you kidding me?! AAAAhhhhhhh!!! hhhhhhhaaaaaa!!!" He's about to loose it.

"It's true, Hubs," I reassure him. I don't want him to kill over dead on me, he's going to prison with me. We both continue to stare at Shrimpy wiping the red dipping sauce off of Sport.

Wow.

Didn't see that one coming. Sport looks like he's getting ready to punch Shrimpy's lights out. We stop staring and casually look around and pretend to whistle (cause we can't really whistle) we look up and back down to see if Shrimpy is still alive. He was gone. O. My. Great. Uncle. Scot. He's dead. The hubs and I look at each other... we do Not want to go to prison with an actual killer! We debate getting out of line.

Five minutes later: Shrimpy's back (whew! thank goodness!!) ... with more shrimp and red dipping sauce. See... I told you this family really liked their shrimp. Sport steps ahead and cuts a few people in line... although, I'm pretty sure if Shrimpy dropped it again, and it got on Sport, again... Shrimpy wouldn't be able to get any more shrimp. That would probably just be the end of Shrimpy. But Sport would probably have to stay on the island in prison for what he just did to Shrimpy... it's just probably a good thing that it didn't happen again.

So... we got on the boat and headed over to the bars and cells. Thankfully it was only Alcatraz and we were only going to see what all of the hub-bub was about. It was pretty crazy. Also very educational. I learned lots about lots of bad guys back in the day. We each got an awesome pair of headphones and a little device that we could pause and play and told what it was like at Alcatraz. Some of the prison guards narrated the story and so did some of the inmates. Scary!!! We saw their cells, and learned what they did while they were cooped up there on the rock. Really quite fascinating.

After we were through being in prison we ran back to the doc to make sure we got on the boat to go back to the bay area. At which point we walked back to the hotel we were going to stay at. We dropped off all of the tourist crap we had aquirred from our little outing to Alcatraz and headed out. For dinner. A surprise dinner. oo laa laa!! : ) kehehehe! The hubs had done his homework and we started walking.

We got there and the hubs perks up, "Well, I guess it can't be much of a surprise any longer..." and points to the sign that is way up high and that I hadn't seen yet and probably wouldn't have seen had he not pointed it out to me. O! Cheesecake! My favorite!

The only bad part about eating here, on this particular night, was that I couldn't save my food. You see, I can never ever eat a whole meal in one sitting. I usually take some home and ration it out over the next two weeks. But I couldn't this time, we had no place to keep it and it would have gone bad. So the waiter took it.

I say that because as we were walking home we walked past a little old lady, hunched over on the sidewalk. Holding out an empty McDonald's cup saying, "Pleaaasse hheellllp meee." Her voice shaking. A little tan Chihuahua perched on her shoulders. I could have given her my dinner. But I didn't even think of it. And I hate that. So I put some helpful things in her little cup instead and went along, thinking I wish I had saved my dinner, that way she wouldn't have to get up.

And I kept thinking about her, and how cold she must have been, but thankful she had her little Chihuahua to keep her company. All night long and the next day I kept thinking of all the ways I am so blessed. Even though I am jobless, I am not homeless. Even if I were completely broke, I know I have family and friends and I could stay with until I found a job, made some money. And I wish so much for the little lady on the street.

We visited another lovely restaurant the following morning. The hotel was going to make us pay $5,000 per person (that's $10,000 total you know) just to eat breakfast there... no thank you! So, we outsmarted them and went on our merry way. After breakfast we asked for more bread to take with us. We didn't want to not have any food to give someone if they needed it.

Not too long after we left the restaurant we meet Samuel. He was standing near by when we were waiting for something or other and shyly approached us and the girl next to us. He timidly asked, "Is there any way you could spare some change? I'm trying to get to the homeless shelter by two." It was one o'clock.

We could. Upon receiving the money, he said, "Oh thank you! God bless you! God bless you! Thank you." the girl handed him some more. He repeated his thanks.

"Are you hungry too? We've got some bread you could have," the hubs says to him.

"Oh yes! Thank you! I'm starving!" eyes full of gratitude he takes a few steps back and opens the box. I wish we had more bread to give him. He was devouring the bread so quickly, but at the same time it seemed like he was trying to make it last. Samuel says, "I'm sorry... this is so embarrassing... so embarrassing. I'm sorry. Thank you. God bless you." He continued nibbing on his bread. We walked away. I wish we would have done more, given more, bought his ticket. But I didn't think of that then. So I think of Samuel, and I hope that the next time I meet someone else in his shoes I will remember him, and won't walk away wishing I had done more. And I wish the best for Samuel.

We walked on, got on the train, with the picture of Samuel in our minds. It's hard to go from something so sad to something that is meant to be exciting and wonderful. The hubs took me to see Wicked. I wanted to enjoy it. I wanted to think that Samuel had made it to the shelter, that the little lady and her chihuahua had found food. But I don't... so I make believe they did.

I wanted to enjoy this great musical with the hubs, I didn't want to sit solemnly the whole time (which, even if you just came from your great grandmother's funeral and were really truly upset or sad or disheartened, I believe you would not be able to stay that way long if you are sitting watching Wicked. ...it's just too funny and strangely uplifting). Plus, after finding tickets for sale, on sale, researching the theater for the seating chart to find where the best spot to sit would be... getting the tickets, arranging for a whole wonderful weekend... it really would be quite wasteful if you didn't enjoy the musical. And I hate wasting things. And I'm cheap. So I was sure as heck going to enjoy the dickens out of this play. So I did. It was such the best.

Needless to say, the hubs outdid his self. It was a great early birthday. Filled with Shrimpy's shrimp and Sporty's butt, prison, cheesecake!, dresses (but that's another story altogether), television (also another story), little lady and Chihuahua, Samuel, and Wicked! Also tolls. But the tolls were not a good part, so I'll exclude them in this list.

yes yes : )