I've been extremely lax about keeping this page updated as to events in my life (or lack of it as the case may be) lately, but here's a few little items from the past few days.

Two days ago. Or maybe it was three. I can't keep track anymore. As usual, I was working the deli.

An elderly black man walked up to the counter, and asked about whether he could buy a whole chicken, cooked like the chicken pieces that were cut up for individual servings in the hotbar. I pointed him to the oven a few meters away, full of whole rotisserie chickens waiting to be punchased by anyone who might happen to walk by.

He went over to the rotisserie oven, looked at the chickens for a few moments, and returned. "Those pieces look different. I want a chicken that's exactly like the pieces you've got in there."

Oh great, I think. One of these annoying kind of customers. I again attempted to reassure him that the chickens in the oven were prepared in exactly the same manner as the individual pieces on display; the only difference being that a few of them were cut into pieces after being cooked.

"These pieces look darker than the chickens over there. These are more done. You sure those were cooked the same?"

In fact, they were from the same batch.

Reluctantly, I walked around the counter, opened the oven, and pulled out a chicken, in an effort to show him it was the same. The chickens had been bagged upside down, with the underside facing the front transparent area of the bag. This had the effect of making them look less done; the bottom portion of the chicken always faces away from the heat elements in the oven.

So I set about explaining that the other side of the chicken would look just as done as the pieces in the case, were it possible to see through the back side of the bag.

Apparently, he was finally becoming convinced, but in the process of rotating the chicken bag, I had inadvertently dripped out some of the juice. A coworker behind the counter pointed out the fact that the bag was leaking, and advised me to turn the bag right side up. Having completed my explanation, I did so.

At this, the customer came to my defense. In a manner of speaking. He issued my coworker a somewhat angry retort. "Hey, he's doing just fine here, selling me this chicken. Don't worry about it. We'll be just fine, so butt out." (At this point, I was rolling my eyes on the inside. Not visibly, of course.)

He said he would buy the chicken, so I assisted him in double bagging it so it wouldn't leak.

Before going on his way, he thanked me for the help, and asked a question. "Hey, do you go to school at CU?"

"Nope."

"Going to any community college or anything?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Then what are you doing?"

I stated the obvious. "Working here."

"Man, you seem like a really smart guy. Seems like there ought to be something better for you to do than be hanging around all the time with a bunch of chickens. So what are you doing here?"

He meant it in a kind way, which is why it hit so hard. I had no answer. All I could say was the customary "thank you" before he went on his way. But I knew I was thanking him for more than his business, as defined in the customer service manual. I was thanking him for his words.

That statement, uttered by a stanger, stuck on my mind the rest of the day, and beyond.

What am I doing?

Not being an unemployed bum, for one thing. Trying to pay off my f*cking debt. Hanging on by a thread until the mythical better times arrive again. Or just wasting away, until I eventually crack? I dunno.

But still, I think: What am I doing? Where am I going?

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...

Having ravenously finished watching the B5 Season 4 episodes I copied from Jaeger, my addiction has risen to a new level.

I've started reading Dark Genesis: The Birth of the Psi Corps. Actually, within 24 hours of purchasing it, I find myself over halfway through the book. This without really devoting a significant portion of time to reading it. Just my breaks at work, a little bit before bed, and a little in the morning when I woke up.

Have my visual language processing capabilities been upgraded without me noticing? I suppose anything is possible. At any rate, it feels like I'm progressing with this one at a much higher rate than I was with Rise and Fall of the Third Reich (which I still haven't finished reading). Maybe because this is really easy reading, delivered in simple, bite-sized chunks.

Maybe I have gotten a bit faster. Still, I'm no Zan Lynx, and probably never will be. Anyway, getting back on topic....

Birth of the Psi Corps. Fascinating stuff. It's all basic history to anyone who knows any B5, but of course the book delves into much more detail about how the Psi Corp came into being. Thoughts to ponder:

How would humanity react if it were suddenly discovered that a small but significant percentage of the population could read minds, with rigorous scientific evidence to back it up?

According to the JMS view of things, the population would initially go beserk. There would be an outbreak of widescale hysteria. Mobs would murderously hunt down telepaths (real or suspected) and exterminate them. Politicians would desperately push for any legal remedies, and, well... the book tells the rest.

The idealistic side of my would like to think that we're better than that. We could deal with it. A few people have the ability to read minds? Leave them be. As long as their powers weren't being used to hurt anybody, not a problem, right? Well... It's complicated.

Diabolical. Utterly diabolicial, how things shape up. In response to the tyranny of the "normals", they form secret organizations, whose ties can only be known through the direct linking of minds. Besides lack of physical evidence, such knowlege is utterly untraceable, and unknowable by the less evolved mass of savage "normals".

It is a sick irony that the most secretive and rogue among them would be chosen to run the organization whose purpose is to "regulate" and "protect" the rest of us. Very twisted.

Maybe William Edgars was right. Shutter at that thought.

I shall now stop before I divulge any real spoiler material. Hopefully, I haven't already said too much.

...

One more dumb deli anecdote before bed. Short and simple.

There's a cute girl who works in the seafood/meat department. Don't know her very well, but we've occassionally chatted briefly when she wanders over on break to get a snack. I would estimate that she's a similar age as myself. Due to various reasons, both logical and non-logical, I've generally considered myself out of the running when it comes to anything serious where the word "relationship" might be uttered.

Today, upon buying a soda and an item of food, she addressed me in the following manner: "Hey cutie, can you ring me up?"

Mildly embarrassed, but also mildly flattered, I smiled and obliged her without commenting on the name she had used to call me. Did she mean anything by it? I don't really know, and maybe it's best not to think too much about it.

But really, whether it meant anything or not, that made my day.

Thanks, [name censored].