Picking up some vegetables at the market

Oh, it has been a spell again, oh well. I was busy milking my birthday for all it was worth, contemplating my ancientness and prospects for employment when I am inevitably laid off, but it was probably my best birthday ever, so who am I to complain, as I always say (har).

Before I poke my nose into unreality tv, I want to plug Shojin, a vegan organic Japanese restaurant in downtown Los Angeles. I’m not sure if everyone loved the food, but goddamn, that kobacha squash chowder is really effing good. Dave and I had the tempeh with vegetables for entrees, which were good and not too heavy, which is what I wanted since I knew we were having dessert. A couple other people got bento boxes and my friend Mai didn’t like her udon; she said it tasted like noodles in mushroom water (they took it off the bill)…but still. It’s a lovely place, the desserts are great, and you won’t get more courteous service anywhere.

They turned the lights out before they brought out my dessert (we were the only ones in there on a Sunday night), then someone flashed them on and off while what seemed to be the entire kitchen staff came out and gaily sang happy birthday to me. They put a candle in a little pouf of chocolate mousse and wrote my name on the plate in delicious raspberry sauce. It’s one of those things that you know people are doing to humor you that your birthday is a big deal, but it’s still touching all the same.

But back to the gutter…

Pick-Up Douche: Talking to Vegetables
I was impressed that the show decided to forgo the safety of a lame nightclub filled with drunk floozies and actually sent contestants into a grocery store to test their pick-up douche mettle. And even better, the results were so completely and literally cringe-inducing that it made for some entertaining television.

I think Matt was the first one up. If I recall, he wandered around haplessly with an empty basket then left without talking to a single chick. Bravo!

Then I think Simeon came in and went up to some girl looking at broccoli and asked her if she’d consider dating a guy named Herman or something. Jesus, dude. But that was just his warm-up: Next he launched into a bizarre monologue at some piles of kale and lettuce in the produce department. Since Simeon was staring so intently and unwaveringly at the vegetables while he babbled, a kind of plain, pale redhead stood uncomfortably about 10 feet away, apparently wondering if he was talking to her or the leafy greens. Then she finally walks away while Simeon is still talking to the kale. It takes him a minute or two to notice she’s gone. CRINGE! eesh.

He has better luck with some plump girls taking advantage of free juice samples. He engages them immediately but then in about a minute, invites them to a bbq. Make it a bit more obvious that you’re just looking for warm bodies and not any particular human beings, Simeon. Surprisingly, they relinquish their phone numbers, but as they turned away from him they exchanged looks like they were thinking Simeon was a total freak.

I think Greg bothers some chicks with his standard weather-yawner, ugh, and Rian…what did he do? I think he did that silly mirror game with some chick and wins the challenge. He is making great strides in pick-up douchery, but oh, that walk! I’m not sure what can be done about nerd-gait, but I think he’ll fare better in the game if he sticks to small clubs where you can’t move around much.

Overall, I was really appalled at how shitty they did. There’s a whole fucking store filled with conversational gambits! Ask some chick if the skin of something is edible or “how do you cook this?” or anything! Or if you insist on sticking to those lame Mysteryisms, at least put a couple of items in your basket so it doesn’t look like a fucking prop in your nerd theater. God.

Then the contestants to be Mystery’s new bff returned to the comforting, warm dark bosom of a Phoenix nightclub to hit on vegetables of a different sort. Tonight’s lesson is how to be a good wingman, and Greg totally fails at this because he’s too into making out with his target. His wing, Rian, didn’t actually need any help, unless you count taking his head out of his ass and not being such a pussy as something a wingman could assist him with. Rian has not one but two chicks basically telling him how it has been a while since they’ve kissed a guy and gee, that might be a fun idea. Rian just nods between them as they grow more confused and uncomfortable and then he just gets up and bids them farewell! Dude! WHAT were you thinking? They delivered you an invitation to win the challenge via certified slut mail and you just leave? Ugh.

So he is sent home, big surprise. Greg would have been gone for sure if Rian hadn’t have pussed out like that. But Mystery’s crush is still hanging on. And getting pretty ballsy, too… I have mentioned before how supportive the nerds are to each other but now that it’s getting down to the wire, the claws are coming out. Mr. bashful voice-cracking Greg actually throws Rian under the bus when he’s probed about why he shouldn’t be cut, saying that he thinks Rian has potential but that he has more. Oh, no he didn’t!

I think Simeon is probably going to take the prize. So I guess that means he’s going to travel to exotic locales with Mystery and his wingz and pick up randoms at clubs for a while? woo. hoo.

Speaking of anticlimaxes, last night was the most limp-dick of a Top Model finale I have ever seen. Once poor Annaleigh is sent home, I knew McKey would win. Like Samantha had a chance, stop pulling my leg. She looks like a Sears model. And did anyone else notice her increasingly “gangsta” syntax and tone in her interviews? She ain’t playin’, Tyra, she’s in it to win it! I found it very puzzling.

And that runway was totally retarded. Why would anyone design a runway that the models would have to run up because without that momentum, they’ll fall on their asses? People making a reality show about modeling and who want them to fall is the obvious answer, but I thought the whole thing looked like a giant breast cancer ribbon anyway. So dumb.

But I love the PR the show does at every commercial break now to combat the by now generally understood reality that these chicks rarely become real models or at the very least, do not become “top” models. Last cycle’s Anya was touted as a gainfully employed model, and Nigel hurriedly wrapped up his voice-over of her modeling coups with “…Greek Elle.” Greek Elle? Who knew there was such a thing? Well, if it got her to Greece, good for her. I want to go to Greece.