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yes, i'm totally serious. for fu's birthday, we took him to the Old Paris flea market. it's what the man wanted, okay, i can't explain it. but for the uninitiated, i should explain Old Paris ... if that's really possible to do without photos. actually, i can sum up the experience by telling you that as we entered the bldg at approximately ten in the a.m. we were passed by a very old (and might i add the adjective grizzled) couple, both clutching the necks of their half-empty bud light bottles. Old Paris is rife with delightful merchandise for sale (i consciously avoided the use of the word "wares" cause it was making me itchy to use that in conjunction with Old Paris) including a wide selection of rebel flags, knives and pagers, yes, pagers. other highlights include: an enormous red sign hanging from the ceiling advertising (in all caps, i might add) TALK TO A LAWYER! FREE CONSULATION! a shop called A-1 Rasta Computers and a trucker cap (you know the kind with the mesh back) emblazoned with the witicism I'm so horny even the crack of dawn ain't safe! so we five middle class whities started feeling kind of bad for being amused by Old Paris when we started noticing the famililies there buying cheap used clothing for their kids or used books, toys, etc. we started feeling pretty low for joking around and not being respectful to other people's situations. as we're leaving, we are hit with this information pretty hard as we see a family, mom, dad, a few kids; they're walking out with a couple of blankets and some second-hand clothing and toys. and we're feeling kind of like shitheels. ... that is, until we notice that sticking out of one of the afgans is a three-foot green bong. the fun continued that evening when jerm and i went to Taste of India for dinner (ohmygod that place is good). we sat enjoying our spicy delights when we were frozen in fear by the sound of a Bali-wood cover of Michael Jackson's "Beat It" blaring out of the speakers over our heads. it was a damned good day.
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