Getting sleep on the first night after a fun-filled road trip didn’t really happen: I was up until about 0400 in the morning looking for jobs on craigslist.org because now I’m dangerously low in the money department. At 0600, Joel and Charlotte’s daughter Sam came down and did what one year-old’s do when they wake up with all that energy, saving me the trouble of getting too much rest after a long road trip. I fell back asleep though, so her efforts were in vain, and I succumbed to the evils of a good night’s rest.
Around 1000, Joel wakes me up and we decide to start the day. More dreams that confuse me and make me feel lonely in this city. But after having some of the UCC coffee Wendy gave me (“It’s strong type coffee! Because you’re strong!” she said as she chose it for me), I perked up and acted like a kid who just had a sugar rush. To everyone’s entertainment, I ended up talking and working out without wasting any breath.
We went around Shadyside and found the Tokyo market–which is closed for Memorial Weekend. Later on we got some supplies for my use, since there’s no way I’m using their scrub or other toiletries. After that, I looked around South Side for a few hours and filled out a few applications to work as a bartender or bar back, then was told by a few others to come back next month when other people leave. Seems like a reasonable deal to me.
Pittsburgh people are very friendly walking around, but comparing them to Los Angeles folks isn’t much, since people in Los Angeles have only as much depth as their credit card bill. Random people shook my hand and even the bartenders from last night when I went to get a drink remembered me, since I was looking for Franziskaner Weissbier. I thought it meant great service and nice people until Joel pointed out I’m a minority here; my tan skin is what they remember and associate with certain unique requests I make. Memory by color association: how classic. On that note, I was stared at all day, with varying types of stares: white people would pretend I wasn’t there but be glancing from the corner of their eyes, Asians stared directly at me, and black people just went up to me and asked me where I was from.
I made some acquaintances with people that way. In the bathroom of the bar I was applying to, the black guy working there, Sylvester, apparently lived in Clark Airbase in the Philippines and spoke to me in Tagalog. He looks forward to me possibly working with him. I walked into a Japanese restaurant, and surprise, surprise, they were Chinese-speakers again, who had Korean food with their sushi too. They were impressed and then surprised I came from California and was a UCLA grad instead of being another University of Pittsburgh student.
After all the job-hunting, I spent the rest of the later afternoon and evening taking pictures around South Side Works, a little area that has a fountain and a stage every weekend afternoon. Lots of people and music there.