THIS WEEK IN REVIEW: 6th – 12th April

Brought to you by Ana María Perea De Zubiría, Michelle Law, Harlan Ambrose, and Sarah Deasy.

That time I saw one of my own hairs on my plate
by Ana María Perea De Zubiría (from Colombia!)

The other day, I found myself looking at a really disgusting hair on my pasta and, as any sensible person would do, I stopped eating that stuff. I made the pasta, so the hair should be mine. But truth is, there’s something I’ve never completely understood: Something suddenly changes when you find hair in your food. I mean, they belong to your very own body – it’s that crazy cute stuff you get cut once in a while. But for some reason, when one escapes – when you rip that precious hair off your head, it becomes a horrible untouchable thing. Something that shouldn’t be seen and, if seen and you realize it’s yours, you should be ashamed of.

★★★ (It could have been worse. At least it was my hair.)

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That time a customer came in and bought ALL THE THINGS for his crush
by Michelle Law

Last night at work, a man in his late twenties, very neatly dressed, came in during the start of an event and politely asked if we sold any gift pens. Despite not having tried any of the pens myself, because I usually steal pens from the hotels I stay at to prevent having to spend money on tools that are a basic human right, I said that “YES WE DO AND THEY’RE ALL GREAT. THIS ONE IS PARTICULARLY SMOOTH.” He told me his work used the smooth brand and since he was buying the pen for a colleague as a going away present, he might steer clear of those. “Do you have any journals?” he asked, ever polite. “DO WE!” I said, and pointed towards the half-empty spinner of Moleskines. All the colours of the rainbow. I picked out some colours— tan, burgundy, navy—robust, earthy colours you might gift to a boss or an esteemed colleague— and offered them to him. But he was after something a little brighter, more friendly. “Actually, it’s for a girl…” he said, shyly, at which point my heart melted. “That is so lovely,” I said, but inwardly, because I’m not a fucking dickhead. After he picked out some journals, I thought he was done shopping, but he hung around the counter like a shy school boy and asked if I knew of any good books on writing. His colleague was quitting to become a writer and he wanted to get her something inspiring. And then my heart was practically bursting with happiness because boy did I have the book for him, and boy how was she not going to fall in love with him now. Afterwards, I tallied up his purchases:

2 x sets of Moleskine journals, both navy
1 x Delfonics pen
1 x Delfonics pencil
1 x Orange Delfonics Book band-it
1 x Bird By Bird by Anne Lamott

At this point I was devising the plot for the romantic comedy I have always wanted to write when –

– just I was peeling off the price tags to wrap this glorious gift, he ran over to the wrapping station, panting and holding a copy of David Bowie’s latest album The Next Day. “Can I get this for her too?!” he said. And I said yes. And all was well.

★★★★★ (“GO GET HER, YOU SCAMP”)

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My drug dealer’s phone lecture on me being too obvious with cash.
by Harlan Ambrose

His main points:
• Don’t wave it around
• Don’t say dolla dolla bill as you hand it to me
• Don’t tell the people around us that it’s for drugs. And no, not even if you whisper it.

His secondary points:
• I haven’t seen The Wire. I don’t understand when you text me quotes from it
• I don’t have change.

★★★★★ Loses one point for calling at seven am. What kind of drug dealer is awake that early? Regains that point for having good product.
‘Your territory ain’t gon mean shit if your product is weak.’ – Stringer Bell.

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The umbrella I found on the bus
by Sarah Deasy

It was a really good umbrella – full size with a hooked handle and wooden tip, not some crummy disposable umbrella that breaks in a moderate wind – just sitting on an empty seat. I was going to give it to the driver for lost and found, but she probably would have kept it anyway. Plus there were storm clouds gathering and the mustard trim perfectly matched the mustard tights I was wearing.

The thrill of walking off the bus with an awesome umbrella just as it starts to rain: ★★★★★
The following five minutes of paranoia that the previous owner of this awesome but conspicuously colourful umbrella will see me carrying it and confront me: ★★

Still worth it.

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