i’m just looking for a goddam bicycle

(o1,)

“Wrieto-San, what means ‘goddam’?”

“God­dam?” I won­dered where she got that.

“Oh, Takako-San, God­dam is a polite word for ‘very.’ You might say it is a god­dam fine evening, or it is god­dam fresh but­ter. Or after din­ner you say to your host­ess, ‘Thank you for your god­dam good dinner.’”

“O, O!” she said. (“OO” was her invari­able Eng­lish excla­ma­tion.) “O, I see. Please, Wrieto-San, pass me the god­dam fresh but­ter.” And she goddam’d her way through the din­ner to a run­ning accom­pa­ni­ment of laugh­ter. After­ward she turned to her host and with per­fect naivete thanked him for the “god­dam good dinner.”

it is another reg­u­lar day in this city namely the cap­i­tal of new eng­land. it is get­ting a lit­tle bit bor­ing on this sat­ur­day after­noon. this kind of bore­dom never cease to con­se­quently occur ever since i landed here, despite the how much research i’ve done on yelp zagat lastfm or other foodie, events, fun tar­get­ing web­sites. we decided to kill this bor­dem by going to a cof­fee shop. god­dam, how i hate the inter­pre­ta­tion of cof­fee shop in ams­ter­dam. any­way, this cof­fee shop is still a nice cof­fee shop, with huge win­dows and seats out­side where you can do peo­ple watch­ing. these spots are especailly good for a game day, on which your eyes will be devoured by red sox flows to fen­way park and won­der how peo­ple reach that kind of unity in uni­forms when it comes to watch­ing base­ball, or sports. it is still a nice coffe shop despite these never smil­ing at you — i’m a hip­ster — pre­ten­tious employ­ees. the design ele­ments in this cof­fee shop, not the cof­fee, is some­thing that bal­ance out my unsat­is­fac­tions, no mat­ter it is about bad music being in the air, or the low tem­per­a­ture of air con­di­tioner, or that asleep wifi router. i decided to read flw’s auto­bi­og­ra­phy and don­ald hall to sen­tence this kind of sat­ur­day after­noon bore­dom to death. and this god­dam para­graph cracked me up.  this kind of sat­ur­day after­noon bore­dom is still lin­ger­ing in every breath i take now, and soon, i know, it will go on its rein­car­na­tion jour­ney to become what is called, sun­day boredom.