This is true.
On a road trip back from Colorado with my brother who I will call; my brother, we had planned stops in Zion National Park, Tehachapi CA, lunch in Fresno, and Yosemite. I will skip the initial portion of the road trip and move right to the arrival at Yosemite. This is in the late February 2008.
The skies were angry that day my friends. Actually we had missed the big snow the week before and were entering Yosemite from the Highway 41 side as it winds, and it does wind, its way to Yosemite. The staff at the park’s entrance was it usual proud self but they look was a bit different. The winter staff had a visual edge to them, almost a Sci-Fi channel original movie look. Not undead, but not Fit TV either. Anyhow I digress.
After a quick awkward howdy and, “Hey is the park beautiful this time of year?” type banter we checked out the Sequoia grove hike and it was too late in the day to muster the two mile hike in the snow to see the giants of the cellulose world. So we pulled out of the parking lot by the parks south entrance and started to wind our way into the world’s largest repository of potential granite countertops.
All in all the park impressed, my brother who had never been to Yosemite saw the coyote who seems to great just about everyone thin time of year, he also saw a bobcat and a deer. We stayed at the Ahwahnee Lodge which is very nice. After settling in and to get a portion of the day’ drive out of our legs we showered changed and walked to the Yosemite Village to check out the new visitors center, the museum and to go the main store to check out any winter deals on Yosemite schwag. This is where we began to feel the pull of the gravitational force of Yosemite’s most passive aggressive couple.
Not sure how you view it but there is a quietness that is expected or assumed or just cast upon public social areas like a grocery/tourist crap store. Being loud does not seem to fit. Talking as if you cannot modulate your voice makes you appear high or worse; tourist-tee. Now I will say my brother and I, ahem, had some help to increase the likelihood we would have an exceptional sensory experience but were by no means prepared mentally or otherwise for YMPAC.
“Marco!”
Was the first loud cry my brother and I heard as we rummaged through the sale rack in the corner of the store. Now I ask you; if you are really aware of your surroundings at this time it is almost impossible not to respond; “Polo!” However, my brother and I are experienced travelers and when we heard this cry we did what most experienced travelers do; we ducked.
“Polio” Came the response from somewhere near the 50% off cheap fleece long sleeve tops with a Yosemite patch sewn on, and I mean dead on the left nipple.
My brother looks over at me and the brief eye contact meant keep rifling the goods ignore them.
What I first noticed was there were about 10 people in the entire store. Who the f**k uses a childhood pool game designed to cop a feel while pretending your eyes are closed to call out to their spouse in a store where you can basically see everyone. So I looked to the respondent.
Yikes.
The couple was that lady you see everywhere when traveling. She is about five feet four inches high and the letters on the sweat pants she is wearing say ‘Pink” across an impressive backyard that was hypnotic in its movement, but not in a good way. She has brown hair that has been highlighted by a wild pack of chimps using hydrogen peroxide, palm leafs and the blood of a nonbeliever. In my enhanced state her hair was glowing the color of Amber, but what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Okay back to YMPAC.
Here sweatpants outfit was completed with complimentary sweat top with the word Murphorphia or sme such thing. If you are a fan of WeTV's Women Behind Bars you get the look. Oh and she had glasses, or goggles, or really big eyebrows.
He was the better looking brother to Steve Buscemi which is not a high bar, but it is bar. I remembered he looked tired. Really tired as if the store was pressing down on him and his life force was draining past the small bits of gravel in the parking lot along with the brackish snow melt of the day. He was tall, around six foot three. I know this because I am just north of six feet and when I walked by, outside of the odor of Mennen deodorant and French fry grease and that odd clean clothes smell. Not from clean clothes exactly, more like the Bounce for the dryer had cat pee on it. he was just above my eye level. I probably creeped him out.
BTW did you know Mennen is made by Colgate- Palmolive ? Who, coincidently make Skin Bracer, Irish Spring soap, Colgate toothpaste, tooth brushes, oral rinses, Murphy’s Oil Soap (I use that), Ajax, Palmolive (of course) and another bazillion things for your mouth, water, clothes, home and whatever.
Moving right along. After the “Polio!” response which I realized later was spat out and not a reply at all, more of a rebuke to the sender. The couple noisily scurried off to the trinkets section and my brother and I scored a couple of Odwalla’s and went outside briefly.
It was cold. We went back in.
The heat of the store hit us hard as the cold juice and cold air had tossed off (ahem) our thermal
properties. So we both must have looked a bit panicked as we reentered the store and began to pull at our clothes like Kathleen Turner in body heat.
Right in front of us was YMPAC and the following phrase was uttered by the guy, swear to (insert deity of choice here);
“If I had told you the plan you would have undone it already. So I should have told you what I didn’t want to do and then when you undid that plan we would be halfway back to the room by now like I wanted.”
Visit Yosemite, be awed by the sites, but beware the winter traveler. And as my brother said after,
“If that guy had killed her when he wanted to he would be out by now.”
On a road trip back from Colorado with my brother who I will call; my brother, we had planned stops in Zion National Park, Tehachapi CA, lunch in Fresno, and Yosemite. I will skip the initial portion of the road trip and move right to the arrival at Yosemite. This is in the late February 2008.
The skies were angry that day my friends. Actually we had missed the big snow the week before and were entering Yosemite from the Highway 41 side as it winds, and it does wind, its way to Yosemite. The staff at the park’s entrance was it usual proud self but they look was a bit different. The winter staff had a visual edge to them, almost a Sci-Fi channel original movie look. Not undead, but not Fit TV either. Anyhow I digress.
After a quick awkward howdy and, “Hey is the park beautiful this time of year?” type banter we checked out the Sequoia grove hike and it was too late in the day to muster the two mile hike in the snow to see the giants of the cellulose world. So we pulled out of the parking lot by the parks south entrance and started to wind our way into the world’s largest repository of potential granite countertops.
All in all the park impressed, my brother who had never been to Yosemite saw the coyote who seems to great just about everyone thin time of year, he also saw a bobcat and a deer. We stayed at the Ahwahnee Lodge which is very nice. After settling in and to get a portion of the day’ drive out of our legs we showered changed and walked to the Yosemite Village to check out the new visitors center, the museum and to go the main store to check out any winter deals on Yosemite schwag. This is where we began to feel the pull of the gravitational force of Yosemite’s most passive aggressive couple.
Not sure how you view it but there is a quietness that is expected or assumed or just cast upon public social areas like a grocery/tourist crap store. Being loud does not seem to fit. Talking as if you cannot modulate your voice makes you appear high or worse; tourist-tee. Now I will say my brother and I, ahem, had some help to increase the likelihood we would have an exceptional sensory experience but were by no means prepared mentally or otherwise for YMPAC.
“Marco!”
Was the first loud cry my brother and I heard as we rummaged through the sale rack in the corner of the store. Now I ask you; if you are really aware of your surroundings at this time it is almost impossible not to respond; “Polo!” However, my brother and I are experienced travelers and when we heard this cry we did what most experienced travelers do; we ducked.
“Polio” Came the response from somewhere near the 50% off cheap fleece long sleeve tops with a Yosemite patch sewn on, and I mean dead on the left nipple.
My brother looks over at me and the brief eye contact meant keep rifling the goods ignore them.
What I first noticed was there were about 10 people in the entire store. Who the f**k uses a childhood pool game designed to cop a feel while pretending your eyes are closed to call out to their spouse in a store where you can basically see everyone. So I looked to the respondent.
Yikes.
The couple was that lady you see everywhere when traveling. She is about five feet four inches high and the letters on the sweat pants she is wearing say ‘Pink” across an impressive backyard that was hypnotic in its movement, but not in a good way. She has brown hair that has been highlighted by a wild pack of chimps using hydrogen peroxide, palm leafs and the blood of a nonbeliever. In my enhanced state her hair was glowing the color of Amber, but what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Okay back to YMPAC.
Here sweatpants outfit was completed with complimentary sweat top with the word Murphorphia or sme such thing. If you are a fan of WeTV's Women Behind Bars you get the look. Oh and she had glasses, or goggles, or really big eyebrows.
He was the better looking brother to Steve Buscemi which is not a high bar, but it is bar. I remembered he looked tired. Really tired as if the store was pressing down on him and his life force was draining past the small bits of gravel in the parking lot along with the brackish snow melt of the day. He was tall, around six foot three. I know this because I am just north of six feet and when I walked by, outside of the odor of Mennen deodorant and French fry grease and that odd clean clothes smell. Not from clean clothes exactly, more like the Bounce for the dryer had cat pee on it. he was just above my eye level. I probably creeped him out.
BTW did you know Mennen is made by Colgate- Palmolive ? Who, coincidently make Skin Bracer, Irish Spring soap, Colgate toothpaste, tooth brushes, oral rinses, Murphy’s Oil Soap (I use that), Ajax, Palmolive (of course) and another bazillion things for your mouth, water, clothes, home and whatever.
Moving right along. After the “Polio!” response which I realized later was spat out and not a reply at all, more of a rebuke to the sender. The couple noisily scurried off to the trinkets section and my brother and I scored a couple of Odwalla’s and went outside briefly.
It was cold. We went back in.
The heat of the store hit us hard as the cold juice and cold air had tossed off (ahem) our thermal
properties. So we both must have looked a bit panicked as we reentered the store and began to pull at our clothes like Kathleen Turner in body heat.
Right in front of us was YMPAC and the following phrase was uttered by the guy, swear to (insert deity of choice here);
“If I had told you the plan you would have undone it already. So I should have told you what I didn’t want to do and then when you undid that plan we would be halfway back to the room by now like I wanted.”
Visit Yosemite, be awed by the sites, but beware the winter traveler. And as my brother said after,
“If that guy had killed her when he wanted to he would be out by now.”
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