I sit here, alone, in the dark…because I don’t have a roommate, and for the third day in a row I forgot to buy a light bulb for the table lamp in my living room because I am an idiot.
Anyway, first topic of the day. I was at the gym earlier, and a familiar face came on the television screen: Manny Pacquiao. And honestly? I don’t get the appeal. Apologies to all the Filipinos reading this, but if he wasn’t Filipino, would you still like him? Would he still be famous? I mean, I can’t name any American boxers, which shows not only how much I know about boxing but how little America promotes its boxers. Wait, I just thought of a boxer…Oscar de la Hoya! But wait, he’s not American, and it took me five minutes of staring into space to rack through my brain to figure that out. My brain: John Leguizamo…Chi Chi Rodriguez…Patrick Swayze…Julie Newmar…Julie Andrews…the Oscars…ding!
Whenever I see Pacquiao on TV, he always seems to be bored, and when he speaks, he mumbles. He even looks boring in pictures; half the time he just looks confused. Everything about him just seems so ordinary and arbitrary. Even if I don’t like an athlete personally, or know absolutely nothing about their sport, I can usually see their appeal, whether it be through their looks, their skill, or their attitude towards the sport. For example, I could see how Tiger Woods (pre-scandal) could be appealing; he has a nice smile, he was charismatic (maybe too charismatic), and he took golf to a whole new level. Same with Lindsey Vonn for the Winter Olympics, and Michael Phelps for swimming. Tonya Harding, for what it’s worth, really put her entire being into her ice skating, and though she is probably a terrible person in real life, I admire her strength and her pluckiness; it’s not hard to see why someone out there would like her. Mark McGwire, Michelle Kwan, Usain Bolt, Johnny Manziel, Serena Williams…they’ve all got it, in one way or the other. But Pacquiao? Just don’t see it.
In other news, I went to Noodles and Company for lunch, and I guess I was just feeling silly or something, because after I put in my order I just kind of launched into a random story to the cashier. I have no recollection as to what it was about, but there was something about wanting to have a pet chicken named Irving, and what if I put my name on the order as Bueller, and then left? He asked for my name, and I guess I was on a roll, because I said “just put it under Captain Ravenwolf…okay fine, you can use my real name, which is Jacob, spelled ZQRWX1324-theta-yellow-Foxtrot.” At this point, the cashier was laughing so hard he was crying a little, which prompted me to say, “Are you crying? There’s no crying at Noodles and Company!”
After he caught his breath, I handed over my credit card, and he said, “No, this one’s on me. I needed that. Thanks.”
And that’s how I got a free meal at Noodles and Company today.