Anchor ads are not supported on this page.

4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs

The Reader's Eye on Television

"Fine! Do whatever you want! I'm sick of it!" She's screaming, sitting at my counter, and touching her temples. I reach for the bottle of bourbon on top of the refrigerator, unscrew the cap, and pull a long slug of brown booze from the glass neck.

"That's it. That's going to help," she says. Her voice has lowered.

The bottle goes back to the top of the fridge.

"What do you want?" I ask. I'm pushing the confrontation instead of letting it lie.

"I want you," her voice is normal, "to do the things I want because they make me happy. I do things you want because they make you happy, even crap I can't stand."

A gay kid on the TV is leading a double life. He wants to tell his friends that he's gay, but he's afraid he'll be alienated. The thing is, all of his friends already know. The kid's affected speech, mannerisms, and behavior when he's drunk and flirting with men have left clues even the stupid and blind could follow.

"Who does he think he's fooling?" I yell and point at the screen.

"I know," she says. "With that accent and those hands that go all over the place."

"What did you want me to do?" I ask again.

"Ugh!" Her fingers curl back toward her face in rage. "Do things that make me happy even though you're miserable."

"You want me to be miserable to make you happy?" I ask and chuckle. I didn't mean to laugh.

"YES! I do all these cockamamie things you like! Why can't you do something I like?"

Sponsored
Sponsored

The bottle comes back off the fridge, unscrew, tip, gulp. I suck at my teeth -- seeetk.

"Never mind," she says and hops down from the stool. "Just get drunk. That's what you want anyway." Her head is shaking and she watches her feet as she walks out of the front room to the bedroom. "Why do we even do this? Why do I even bother?" she shouts from the dark.

The gay kid on TV is crying into the phone.

She's on the phone, crying to her mom.

I suck at my teeth -- seeetk -- one last time, and the bottle makes its way back up to its spot.

An hour later, the gay kid's TV show is over, and we're in bed. My arm is around her waist, and her head is back near mine. I can smell her hair and feel her body shake. We're laughing. Hysterically. We're out of breath and nearly crying. My side hurts.

"YES, I SAID, 'COCKAMAMIE'!" she yells.

"Why do I even bother!?" I scream in laughter.

WHAT I WILL AND WON'T WATCH THIS WEEK

The week's shows, as they relate to articles of clothing I found in a bag behind my apartment:

Thursday, November 30

JAG

USA 8:00 a.m. First item from the bag: a hat. It's round and drab green -- a military hat. Not a beret or officer's cap, but enlisted...maybe Army, with a baseball bill. It doesn't seem worn out; it's still good-looking and crisp, but the olive color has faded. It's done its duty and is now discarded. No one cares. Also: JAG is still on TV?

Law and Order: SVU

USA 8:00 p.m. One glove? What the hell happened to the other glove? This one is a hideous purple Isotoner with tan faux-leather pads on the palm and fingers and holes spaced along the back. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why someone would wear this thing or discard it as half of a pair. Nor would I ever think about putting my hand in it. There's something inside, but I'm icked out. I drop it and my hands fly back toward my body and I go, "yeeeiieggiy!"

Friday, December 1

Trading Spouses: Meet Your New Mommy

FOX 9:00 p.m. Item the third: a baby bib. It's white with blue piping, and it has a berry juice or jam stain. But the beauty of this article is the block print across the front that reads "My Mommy Puts Out." Only one word can describe this: tacky. It's goddamn tacky is what it is.

Saturday, December 2

V-Twin Motorcycle TV

Speed 5:00 a.m. Next up: a T-shirt. An ordinary T-shirt? No, my friend. I'm digging through a bag in an alley in North Park near the City Heights border. This is a very special T-shirt. On the front is a picturesque landscape of white-capped mountains. Hovering above the snowy peaks is the vignette of a wolf howling. The wolf's head is the same size as the mountain range, which opens up several other questions in my mind that I'll spare the reader. Along the bottom, near where the bellybutton resides, is a miniature biker and motorcycle, no bigger than half a pine tree or the wolf spirit's snout. The shirt is soaked in red oil that's now on my hands and collecting grit from everything I attempt to wipe them on.

Kiss of the Dragon

Telemundo 7:00 p.m. OW! Something bit me! A creature crawled from the Naugahyde sleeve of a felt jacket; like a letterman's jacket, only it's all black and there's no insignia sewn to it. I didn't get a good look at the animal, but there's a little red dot of blood on my nose-pickin' finger. It could've been a spider or a koala for all I know...my head was turned. It nabbed my finger and escaped beneath a truck parked behind me. Son of a bitch!

Sunday, December 3

American Dad

FOX 7:30 p.m. A rag of an old shirt. The shirt is nothing special, an almost imperceptible logo to a radio station adorns the front, and on the back a banner reads, "The World's Most Dangerous Morning Show." The pits are so stained that it appears someone has used them as a filter at the outlet of a fish hatchery -- two big, yellow, moons from the shoulder to the love-handle area. I'm guessing this was a yard-work shirt. There's oil and grass mixed in around the belly.

Monday, December 4

Martha

NBC 11:00 a.m. Something in this bag smells like fish. I must be revisiting someone's lunch on a piece of clothing heated in the sun. I'd like to get my head further in to find the source, but I fear gagging or possible unconsciousness. Woof! Oh, my god. I'll have to dump the rest out. My neighbors are going to love me.

Tuesday, December 5

Gifts of Food

QVC 10:00 a.m. I've dumped the rest out. There's a tin can in here. The bag must not have been bound for a thrift store and, instead, left out here for the trash man to pick up. Still, it seems weird that there's only one can, with the label ripped off, leaking grease into a bag of clothes. I think it's the source of the smell. And maybe the reason my animal attacker had clawed its way through the black plastic and taken up residence inside. Until the damned thing bit me. That's not funny.

Wednesday, December 6

The Biggest Loser

NBC 8:00 p.m. Whoa! Ho ho! What is this, a moo moo? What a horrid pattern: yellow background with orange palm leaves splayed across it. There's some sort of permanent belt sewn into what I assume is the waistline, or what could be the cinching strap on the nastiest car cover in America. This thing is huge; I can hold it almost at full wingspan. No, it's pants. Double-knit, heavy fabric, and stretchy. Whoever wore this, honey, I applaud you for throwing it out.

Thursday, December 7

Santa Claus is Comin' to Town

ABC 7:00 p.m. I had to cut the experiment short because my crackhead neighbor came out. She's 450 years old if she's a day. I've never seen her in anything except a tattered baby-blue robe. She's missing all but one of her teeth, and the three gray hairs on her head sit straight up. She has a Southern accent that she spits out of her wet mouth. She came out of her house and yelled, "What the hell are you doing?" I had to sweep everything back in the bag, afraid of being bit by something else, and run into my apartment.

The latest copy of the Reader

Please enjoy this clickable Reader flipbook. Linked text and ads are flash-highlighted in blue for your convenience. To enhance your viewing, please open full screen mode by clicking the icon on the far right of the black flipbook toolbar.

Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all
Previous article

Quill & Arrow Law is Saving Drivers Around California with Lemon Law

Next Article

More on San Diego inventions – Spike Bite and disappearing ink

The scandal of county supervisors at the library

"Fine! Do whatever you want! I'm sick of it!" She's screaming, sitting at my counter, and touching her temples. I reach for the bottle of bourbon on top of the refrigerator, unscrew the cap, and pull a long slug of brown booze from the glass neck.

"That's it. That's going to help," she says. Her voice has lowered.

The bottle goes back to the top of the fridge.

"What do you want?" I ask. I'm pushing the confrontation instead of letting it lie.

"I want you," her voice is normal, "to do the things I want because they make me happy. I do things you want because they make you happy, even crap I can't stand."

A gay kid on the TV is leading a double life. He wants to tell his friends that he's gay, but he's afraid he'll be alienated. The thing is, all of his friends already know. The kid's affected speech, mannerisms, and behavior when he's drunk and flirting with men have left clues even the stupid and blind could follow.

"Who does he think he's fooling?" I yell and point at the screen.

"I know," she says. "With that accent and those hands that go all over the place."

"What did you want me to do?" I ask again.

"Ugh!" Her fingers curl back toward her face in rage. "Do things that make me happy even though you're miserable."

"You want me to be miserable to make you happy?" I ask and chuckle. I didn't mean to laugh.

"YES! I do all these cockamamie things you like! Why can't you do something I like?"

Sponsored
Sponsored

The bottle comes back off the fridge, unscrew, tip, gulp. I suck at my teeth -- seeetk.

"Never mind," she says and hops down from the stool. "Just get drunk. That's what you want anyway." Her head is shaking and she watches her feet as she walks out of the front room to the bedroom. "Why do we even do this? Why do I even bother?" she shouts from the dark.

The gay kid on TV is crying into the phone.

She's on the phone, crying to her mom.

I suck at my teeth -- seeetk -- one last time, and the bottle makes its way back up to its spot.

An hour later, the gay kid's TV show is over, and we're in bed. My arm is around her waist, and her head is back near mine. I can smell her hair and feel her body shake. We're laughing. Hysterically. We're out of breath and nearly crying. My side hurts.

"YES, I SAID, 'COCKAMAMIE'!" she yells.

"Why do I even bother!?" I scream in laughter.

WHAT I WILL AND WON'T WATCH THIS WEEK

The week's shows, as they relate to articles of clothing I found in a bag behind my apartment:

Thursday, November 30

JAG

USA 8:00 a.m. First item from the bag: a hat. It's round and drab green -- a military hat. Not a beret or officer's cap, but enlisted...maybe Army, with a baseball bill. It doesn't seem worn out; it's still good-looking and crisp, but the olive color has faded. It's done its duty and is now discarded. No one cares. Also: JAG is still on TV?

Law and Order: SVU

USA 8:00 p.m. One glove? What the hell happened to the other glove? This one is a hideous purple Isotoner with tan faux-leather pads on the palm and fingers and holes spaced along the back. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why someone would wear this thing or discard it as half of a pair. Nor would I ever think about putting my hand in it. There's something inside, but I'm icked out. I drop it and my hands fly back toward my body and I go, "yeeeiieggiy!"

Friday, December 1

Trading Spouses: Meet Your New Mommy

FOX 9:00 p.m. Item the third: a baby bib. It's white with blue piping, and it has a berry juice or jam stain. But the beauty of this article is the block print across the front that reads "My Mommy Puts Out." Only one word can describe this: tacky. It's goddamn tacky is what it is.

Saturday, December 2

V-Twin Motorcycle TV

Speed 5:00 a.m. Next up: a T-shirt. An ordinary T-shirt? No, my friend. I'm digging through a bag in an alley in North Park near the City Heights border. This is a very special T-shirt. On the front is a picturesque landscape of white-capped mountains. Hovering above the snowy peaks is the vignette of a wolf howling. The wolf's head is the same size as the mountain range, which opens up several other questions in my mind that I'll spare the reader. Along the bottom, near where the bellybutton resides, is a miniature biker and motorcycle, no bigger than half a pine tree or the wolf spirit's snout. The shirt is soaked in red oil that's now on my hands and collecting grit from everything I attempt to wipe them on.

Kiss of the Dragon

Telemundo 7:00 p.m. OW! Something bit me! A creature crawled from the Naugahyde sleeve of a felt jacket; like a letterman's jacket, only it's all black and there's no insignia sewn to it. I didn't get a good look at the animal, but there's a little red dot of blood on my nose-pickin' finger. It could've been a spider or a koala for all I know...my head was turned. It nabbed my finger and escaped beneath a truck parked behind me. Son of a bitch!

Sunday, December 3

American Dad

FOX 7:30 p.m. A rag of an old shirt. The shirt is nothing special, an almost imperceptible logo to a radio station adorns the front, and on the back a banner reads, "The World's Most Dangerous Morning Show." The pits are so stained that it appears someone has used them as a filter at the outlet of a fish hatchery -- two big, yellow, moons from the shoulder to the love-handle area. I'm guessing this was a yard-work shirt. There's oil and grass mixed in around the belly.

Monday, December 4

Martha

NBC 11:00 a.m. Something in this bag smells like fish. I must be revisiting someone's lunch on a piece of clothing heated in the sun. I'd like to get my head further in to find the source, but I fear gagging or possible unconsciousness. Woof! Oh, my god. I'll have to dump the rest out. My neighbors are going to love me.

Tuesday, December 5

Gifts of Food

QVC 10:00 a.m. I've dumped the rest out. There's a tin can in here. The bag must not have been bound for a thrift store and, instead, left out here for the trash man to pick up. Still, it seems weird that there's only one can, with the label ripped off, leaking grease into a bag of clothes. I think it's the source of the smell. And maybe the reason my animal attacker had clawed its way through the black plastic and taken up residence inside. Until the damned thing bit me. That's not funny.

Wednesday, December 6

The Biggest Loser

NBC 8:00 p.m. Whoa! Ho ho! What is this, a moo moo? What a horrid pattern: yellow background with orange palm leaves splayed across it. There's some sort of permanent belt sewn into what I assume is the waistline, or what could be the cinching strap on the nastiest car cover in America. This thing is huge; I can hold it almost at full wingspan. No, it's pants. Double-knit, heavy fabric, and stretchy. Whoever wore this, honey, I applaud you for throwing it out.

Thursday, December 7

Santa Claus is Comin' to Town

ABC 7:00 p.m. I had to cut the experiment short because my crackhead neighbor came out. She's 450 years old if she's a day. I've never seen her in anything except a tattered baby-blue robe. She's missing all but one of her teeth, and the three gray hairs on her head sit straight up. She has a Southern accent that she spits out of her wet mouth. She came out of her house and yelled, "What the hell are you doing?" I had to sweep everything back in the bag, afraid of being bit by something else, and run into my apartment.

Comments
Sponsored

The latest copy of the Reader

Please enjoy this clickable Reader flipbook. Linked text and ads are flash-highlighted in blue for your convenience. To enhance your viewing, please open full screen mode by clicking the icon on the far right of the black flipbook toolbar.

Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all
Previous article

Codename Stasis found its format at SDSU

Local zine tells a magical local story
Next Article

Roll-over crashes crop up in San Diego and Baja

Nails, beer, Coca-Cola, Mexican pop singer Luis Miguel's stage equipment
Comments
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed Big Screen — Movie commentary Blurt — Music's inside track Booze News — San Diego spirits Classical Music — Immortal beauty Classifieds — Free and easy Cover Stories — Front-page features Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts Feast! — Food & drink reviews Feature Stories — Local news & stories Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore From the Archives — Spotlight on the past Golden Dreams — Talk of the town The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it Letters — Our inbox Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news News Ticker — News & politics Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated Poetry — The old and the new Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers Reading — The hunt for intellectuals Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds SD on the QT — Almost factual news Sheep and Goats — Places of worship Special Issues — The best of Street Style — San Diego streets have style Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves Theater — On stage in San Diego this week Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads Your Week — Daily event picks
4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs
Close

Anchor ads are not supported on this page.

This Week’s Reader This Week’s Reader