Friday, November 14, 2008

I poop 4 times and I review the Pita Grill where I meet an ethnically ambiguous hottie who serves me feta cheese

I just took my third shit today. My first shit was kinda brown and kinda solid. The second shit was yellow or clay. It was soft and mushy. The third shit was green and runny.

Children do not develop an immune system for the first few years of life so parents are constantly seeing the kind of mess in dirty diapers I am seeing in the toilet these days so they would probably not be alarmed the way I am about the condition of my bowel movements. I worry because I assume the only reason I shit like an infant is because I have AIDS and the AIDS has so fucked my immune system that the fact that I drink a little ice tea with hibiscus makes me shit weak, runny and green. I feel like I am Kermit the frog in his last days, getting high with the King of Rock and Roll and ready to die face down in the commode.

I know every one wants to dissect what I am eating so I will use that as an excuse to give you my review of the Pita Grill.* Also I only eat chocolate gram crackers, herbal and decaf ice tea, and fast food.

*It should be noted that I shat before eating at the Pita Grill. The Pita Grill is in no way to blame for my weak or discolored bowel movements.

I loaned my truck out to a friend of Card Shark's. She needed to move furniture. She was also a good hour late getting the truck back to me at work so I had to stick around work for an additional hour waiting for her to return so I could get home.

I guess she felt guilty about taking so long to pick me up because she palmed me 10 dollars which I would not have accepted, but I was not paying attention to what she gave me, and after I took the money it felt weird to give it back, and there the whole thing about me siting around waiting on her for a good hour, and her good manners would have required her to take me to lunch or dinner, and the 10 dollars would have been about what she would have had to pay, and accepting the money was a lot easier than coming up with an hour of uncomfortable small talk at lunch which would have turned devolved into a one hour gab fest about Card Shark because he is about the only thing we have in common.

Frankly, I couldn't stomach the idea of talking about Card Shark for a full hour as the time I spend with Card Shark we spend talking about him, and if there is anything that you need to know about a guy with 4 blogs and two podcast and a u-tube channel is that this is all about me baby.


I think I am going to shit again soon. Also, Yahoo Radio is fucking up again and not playing commercials!

Oh, yeah. I was getting to the part where I talk about the food I ate today and review the Pita Grill. I decided to eat out because I had an extra 10 dollars in my pockets.

The pita grill is in located in a strip mall next to ASU. The decor on the outside is pretty typical. Inside the place is pretty cool. There is ample seating. The furniture is shiny and black. An ethnically ambiguous girl is surfing the web and sipping a diet coke through a straw. The sound system is piping in Middle Eastern music. The "middle eastern" music sounds a lot like Indian music. But not the annoying kind of Indian music you hear in Bollywood movies. Calm, sedate stuff without all the odd vocalizations.

I stepped up to the counter to place my order. I told Ambiguously Ethnic Girl that, "This is my first time here." She pointed to pictures on the wall and told me there are pictures of the food on the wall. Now I know how really stupid foreigners think Americans are.

I tried to impress the girl with me knowledge of food by ordering a gyro pita with feta. When I ordered fries as my side she gave me a look of disgust. I guess foreigners aren't taught to hold in their contempt for the crassness of their patrons.

While my server took my order I played a game where I tried to determine the woman's ethnicity. I thought she might be a Greek, because she had long curly hair.*

*Did I mention I like long dark curly hair?

She also looked middle eastern; or moreover, the possible family members who worked with her looked middle eastern, and by middle eastern I assume Persian for no reason other than I know Persians come from Iran, and I was hoping I could somehow work that knowledge into the conversation without it looking to obvious. I never did. And I never got over the compulsion to blurt out that Persians are from Iran.

The food is quite good. I paid $4.99 for the Gyro Pita and $2.50 to make it a combo with fries and a drink. The fries are the only disappointment which is not surprising as this is not an American Diner, but a middle eastern food joint. The fries are skinny and come with a dusting of seasoning. I hate seasoned fries in general, so maybe if you like seasoned fries you would find the fries acceptable. The ice tea I drank had a hint of peach.

The gyro was good. The lamb and beef was tender and fresh. I added the hot sauce to it and a side of feta. My server smiled at me when she packaged the food to go and then placed it in the to go bag for me even though I ordered the food to eat in.

My food bill came to $8.10. I remember thinking the girl jipped me on change which got me to thinking she might be Jewish after all. But after I got home I saw that I had $1.90 in change, so maybe she is just Persian.

I was slightly irritated by the girl. She did not like to answer any of my questions, but that may have been because English was not her first language. When I first entered the store I heard her and her compatriots conversing in a language I could not determine.

She wore the strange track suit that Europeans think is appropriate for every day wear. Her lime green shoes did not match. I remember I couldn't understand anything she said unless she repeated it to me and was looking right at me so I could read her lips.

She sat down at at a table to eat a snack half way through my meal. She looked skinny behind the counter but I noticed a small pooch around her middle from my new vantage point. Nothing bad. She just wasn't super tight like a swimmer or an athlete. She had some good female fat.

My cell phone was beeping throughout the meal as I was texting the Ex IGF and Leslie. The only other diners where a nice college couple. The guy ordered food and the girl watched him eat. I liked that this guy did not pay for a meal for her.

College girl had short brown hair. She smiled at me. I think she was glad I was there because we were in on the little secret that this place served decent food. Maybe she was imagining that I could be her boyfriend, because her current boyfriend took her to places like this and she had to notice how my cell phone was blowing up, so obviously even though it was a Friday night at 10:30 and I didn't have a date, I was a guy with friends who couldn't stand to be out of touch.

The college girl looked back at me a lot during my meal. Maybe thinking I would buy her some baklava. It would be her first time trying it, and I could talk to her about all the nuts in the dessert and how they firm up her bowel movements. She would probably laugh at the inappropriateness of the conversation and marvel at how at ease I was with her. She would swear off men her age for the maturity to be found in my graying goatee.

The college boy got up and the college girl left with him. I guess all the stuff we shared meant nothing to her. Girls are like that though. I'm cool with it.

I'm at home now and I am eating cookies. I have 4 cookies left. I am going to eat them all. I have to go for a Tux fitting in the morning, and I want to be able to eat a little before the wedding.

One last thing. I just posted a new Fan Letter to Steve Nash's Wife over at Bathos for the Misanthropic. Quit making me tell you that. Add Bathos to your blog reader.


DCup said...

Sometimes, this is like a visit with my mom. She likes to tell me about her bowel movements.

I'd rather hear about food and college girls who might have been lovers.

Katie Schwartz said...

At least your shits are entertaining. Imagine if your asstastic movements lacked creativity or emotion? That would be horrible and we would all suffer as a result.

Romius T. said...


the only reason I talk about my shit is when I die I want the medical coroner to be able to find out why I died by anaylyzing my bowel movements over the internet. a first that is sure to be reported on

she sweetness must be repayed.