So I went to Syracuse yesterday to go to the mall with some friends and then to pick up a rental car. Syracuse is really interesting-it's like Tacoma with a large University and evidently a lot of Middle Eastern people (a fact that sent bolts of excitement through me, although most of them were women wearing hijabs, and I didn't want to try to talk to them for fear of being culturally insensitive). The Carousel Mall was, well, a mall. With a giant carousel in the food court (imagine that). We did some shopping at H&M, then I wandered off in search of some Sambas while the ladies I was with (and the other guy, who became an ad-hoc fashion critic) went in search of "ass pants".
This was the first annoying experience of my day (looking for Sambas, not ass pants). I realized in my search just how trendy athleticism is, even if you're not an athlete. There were scores of shoe shops and clothing stores that sold all manner of sporty clothing and plenty of the casual models of Adidas and other shoes, but no one sold Sambas. All I wanted was a decent pair of indoor soccer shoes, and I spent hours searching for them. Finally, in the Discount Shoe Warehouse, I found a pair in my size.
In a more positive light, I also discovered the new rage in hip-hop stores, which seems to be this sort of hoody with glitzy designs plastered all over it (i.e. black hoody with shiny Benjamins from collar to cuff, etc.). To be honest, I think they're pretty sweet, but I'd probably look pretty weird if I bought one in a fitting size and wore it with tight pants. I'll probably get one anyway-I like them.
After finding the Sambas and reflecting upon the bling-bling hoodies, I ran into the crew again, and one of the gals was getting her hair layered. Before she finished, I bought some Crew Tea Tree shampoo and fiber. I don't usually put stuff in my hair, but it was buy one, get one half off, so I had to find something or miss out on the deal. Said buddy finished up with her haircut and kindly drove me to the Syracuse airport to pick up my rental car. She offered to circle the lot until I was done, so I thanked her and went inside.
I had all but rented my car when the lady at the counter informed me (with a raspy air of New York indifference) that I had to have a copy of my flight itinerary if I wanted to rent with a debit card. Withholding my original impulse to scream something in the neighborhood of Then why the fuck didn't you put that on your fucking website so I would've brought my bleedin' itinerary? I went to the various airline desks to see if I could get a printout (I'd forgotten which airline I was on, having purchased an Expedia e-ticket).
Going to Continental first was a big mistake, not because of the airline, but because I chose to begin with the only airline that had one desk worker who was engaged in a fierce verbal exchange with some upper-crust princess over ticketing and flight times. This broad had reserved a flight with frequent flyer miles, the flight had fallen through, and she wanted a thousand-dollar transfer for something that only cost $46 in the first place. So I had to sit in line, watching the older woman behind the counter answer her questions, then five minutes later, after the predictable outbursts, answer the same fucking question again because the young royale had forgotten during her fit of spoiled rage that she'd already asked it. Needless to say, once she'd realized she was SOL, I found out that I was also SOL, not being on Continental.
After more searching, I realized that I had a credit card with me (duh) and rented the car with it, no problem.
Unfortunately, my buddy outside had to drive away because she was being harassed by the cops for parking in front of the terminal (the irony-a two tour GWOT veteran being shooed away by police for security reasons). I had no knowledge of this, and circled the terminal several times myself before giving up and regrouping at the mall. I found my people there, and we did some more shopping (well, the ladies did, still searching in vain for that perfect pair of "ass pants"), and I left once I'd accidentally lost them, because I wanted to get to Samir's (a Middle Eastern grocery store in Syracuse) before closing time.
I bought a box of Sadaf tea, half a pound of French feta, two bags of pita, some olives and a jar of tahina. I was really tempted to buy a vat of olives, but I was afraid to spend too much. I was tempted to buy some of the halal salami there, but I've really been trying to eat vegetarian more often, although it's for various reasons that don't fall within the neighborhood of eco-superhero or anything like that.
Anyway, on the way home, I had to drive through a blizzard, which ended up with me pulling about 25MPH for an hour in the barren strech between Syracuse and Drum. I'd never driven in heavy snow before, and I almost had vertigo because New York doesn't have that delightful west coast ethic that calls for the installation of freeway lamps at reasonable intervals. Needless to say, I made it home and promptly passed out, anticipating a long day of boring reverse in-processing at the admin building.
This was the first annoying experience of my day (looking for Sambas, not ass pants). I realized in my search just how trendy athleticism is, even if you're not an athlete. There were scores of shoe shops and clothing stores that sold all manner of sporty clothing and plenty of the casual models of Adidas and other shoes, but no one sold Sambas. All I wanted was a decent pair of indoor soccer shoes, and I spent hours searching for them. Finally, in the Discount Shoe Warehouse, I found a pair in my size.
In a more positive light, I also discovered the new rage in hip-hop stores, which seems to be this sort of hoody with glitzy designs plastered all over it (i.e. black hoody with shiny Benjamins from collar to cuff, etc.). To be honest, I think they're pretty sweet, but I'd probably look pretty weird if I bought one in a fitting size and wore it with tight pants. I'll probably get one anyway-I like them.
After finding the Sambas and reflecting upon the bling-bling hoodies, I ran into the crew again, and one of the gals was getting her hair layered. Before she finished, I bought some Crew Tea Tree shampoo and fiber. I don't usually put stuff in my hair, but it was buy one, get one half off, so I had to find something or miss out on the deal. Said buddy finished up with her haircut and kindly drove me to the Syracuse airport to pick up my rental car. She offered to circle the lot until I was done, so I thanked her and went inside.
I had all but rented my car when the lady at the counter informed me (with a raspy air of New York indifference) that I had to have a copy of my flight itinerary if I wanted to rent with a debit card. Withholding my original impulse to scream something in the neighborhood of Then why the fuck didn't you put that on your fucking website so I would've brought my bleedin' itinerary? I went to the various airline desks to see if I could get a printout (I'd forgotten which airline I was on, having purchased an Expedia e-ticket).
Going to Continental first was a big mistake, not because of the airline, but because I chose to begin with the only airline that had one desk worker who was engaged in a fierce verbal exchange with some upper-crust princess over ticketing and flight times. This broad had reserved a flight with frequent flyer miles, the flight had fallen through, and she wanted a thousand-dollar transfer for something that only cost $46 in the first place. So I had to sit in line, watching the older woman behind the counter answer her questions, then five minutes later, after the predictable outbursts, answer the same fucking question again because the young royale had forgotten during her fit of spoiled rage that she'd already asked it. Needless to say, once she'd realized she was SOL, I found out that I was also SOL, not being on Continental.
After more searching, I realized that I had a credit card with me (duh) and rented the car with it, no problem.
Unfortunately, my buddy outside had to drive away because she was being harassed by the cops for parking in front of the terminal (the irony-a two tour GWOT veteran being shooed away by police for security reasons). I had no knowledge of this, and circled the terminal several times myself before giving up and regrouping at the mall. I found my people there, and we did some more shopping (well, the ladies did, still searching in vain for that perfect pair of "ass pants"), and I left once I'd accidentally lost them, because I wanted to get to Samir's (a Middle Eastern grocery store in Syracuse) before closing time.
I bought a box of Sadaf tea, half a pound of French feta, two bags of pita, some olives and a jar of tahina. I was really tempted to buy a vat of olives, but I was afraid to spend too much. I was tempted to buy some of the halal salami there, but I've really been trying to eat vegetarian more often, although it's for various reasons that don't fall within the neighborhood of eco-superhero or anything like that.
Anyway, on the way home, I had to drive through a blizzard, which ended up with me pulling about 25MPH for an hour in the barren strech between Syracuse and Drum. I'd never driven in heavy snow before, and I almost had vertigo because New York doesn't have that delightful west coast ethic that calls for the installation of freeway lamps at reasonable intervals. Needless to say, I made it home and promptly passed out, anticipating a long day of boring reverse in-processing at the admin building.
Delicious Irony! Fort Drum was my first duty station. Ah me. I remember the carousel mall. I had to drive all the way to Syracuse to watch Dogma because the theater at the Salmon Run wouldn't show it.