Before I get started, I'm from California, born and raised. I grew up (down, whichever's appropriate) in Los Angeles. I attended all of my public schooling there, earned degrees from two different universities there, completed my apprenticeship there, worked there, and retired (at age 41--just sayin) in California.
Some of my favorite years were spent living between the High Desert and Long Beach. I've both lived and worked up and down the Golden State, the majority of my friends still live there as does Pura's family. iheart California, 'guilty!' And for each of these reasons, along with the following three strikes I'll explain to you, I've earned the right to talk as much shit about it as I want.
:Disclaimer: What I'm about to say will not consist of two things: Mexican food and weed. Having spent several months up and down Mexico, multiple weekends between Rosarito and Michoacán, and lived in both Central and South America for six months, the absolute best Mexican food in the world comes from California--period. Same goes for the photosynthesis derived, simply add water, all-naturally flowering plant. Without question, even during current times of destructive wild fires that cast an unfamiliar red tint across cover images, the weed in California is superior and requires...
No Enhancement
Those of you who've been following me know Pura and I just returned to the states after touring a total of 13 countries the past two years between Central and South America, the UK, Europe, and the Middle East. Those of you who've been following me also know I have no filters when it comes to saying what ithink.
We made several life long friends during our travels, most of whom I remain in contact with. Throughout most walks of life, humans are generally good people and, throughout most walks of life, humans generally have the wrong impression of Americans. Pura and I corrected that misconception one person at a time. Regardless what BBC noose (news) and Netflix specials would like people to believe about Americans, each person we crossed paths with will forever now have to admit how one time they met a really cool couple from America.
Each of them, all of whom span from nations between Russia, Iraq, Syria, various parts of Europe, all the way to India, South Korea, and up to Scotland, I said: 'I hope you're able to come to LA, you'll love it! California is the most liberal state in the country and LA is arguably the most liberal county in the state. I can't wait to show you around, you'll feel welcome as soon as you step foot in California--you'll love it.' With deep regret, I take it all back. I was wrong and I suck at making mistakes.
Congraultions
California!
You Win The Award For Biggest Asshole Of The Country
The very first step we took in California after two years of absence was about a week ago in Cathedral City. Pura and I stopped at an Albertsons deli for sandwiches because unlike the other 15 states we travelled across, indoor dining is all but obsolete in California. Nowhere else did we have any issues. They not only dine inside everywhere else across the country but facial disguises are disregarded like Trump's commentary rather than acknowledged--not California.
While disguised, as well as maintaining a six foot distance which, by the way, if one works, what's the point of both? ....🤔 Anywho, I ordered a sandwich from the deli while Pura had a salad prepared. For the record--I kill people with kindness, please and thank you fly from my vocabulary as regularly as police bullets fly in the direction of unarmed, innocent human beings.
I ordered a sandwich from the deli counter:
'Good afternoon, thank you for serving me. May I please have a turkey sandwich, please, with no avocado and no mayonnaise? I'm allergic to avocado.' (I have to say "allergy" otherwise I'll end up in an ambulance - again)
Without a response, the young lady turned her back on me and walked away from the deli counter. I assumed she was retrieving bread or something. A few minutes later, a different young woman approached the counter.
Do you need something? She asked.
'Yes, please. I just ordered a turkey sandwich from your colleague but she left, I assume she's gathering product.'
What product? What you see is what you get, if you don't see it, it means we don't have it. What do you want?
'I would like a turkey sandwich, please, with everything on it minus mayonnaise and avocado, please. I'm allergic to avocado. Thank you!'
Without saying another word to me, she whipped up a sandwich, weighed it, placed a price tag on it and slid it down the counter toward me before abruptly walking away--I never saw her again. Pura met back up with me explaining how rude the lady was who just made her salad, she said "I considered asking if she felt threatened by 'please' and 'thank you.' I asked for a fork but she flat out ignored me." I then asked the first woman behind the counter who originally wouldn't help me for a fork.
'Excuse me, is there plastic utensils available? Thank you.'
She threw two sets of plastic utensils toward us. One landed on the ground at our feet and the other landed on the stacked bread in front of the glass case--she walked away again without saying a word. Surprised, we picked them up and headed to the checkout line--that was our first human encounter in California. Strike 1. Next stop: The checkout.
We grabbed two waters from the checkout line that were two for $1, placed those, my sandwich, and Pura's salad on the register while James rang them up without acknowledging either of our small talk: "good afternoon, how are you?" :crickets: The waters didn't register as two for $1 so James needed a price verification. Pura said "they're 2 for a dollar" and he side-eyed her as though there's no such deal, insinuating she wasn't telling him the truth and left us at the register while he price-checked the waters himself.
He returned and proceeded to ring us up while aggressively sliding each purchase to the end of the counter. Had I not been in a catchers position, they would've slid off the counter. I could tell he was perturbed, it started when Pura informed him the waters were two for a dollar. I was at one end, Pura was at the register handling the transaction but she couldn't understand him when he told her the total cost through his face mask. "I'm sorry, what was that?" She asked.
James shrugged his head, flipped the register around, pointed to the total on the screen and said, "now do you hear me?" His gestures were not welcoming, he was rude, nothing about his actions were customer friendly but that last comment was uncalled for.
'Is there a problem here, James?' I said in an aggregated voice. "No." 'Seems to me there's a problem, James, did we irritate you by entering your check stand or did the cat shit in your cereal this morning? Say whatever you want to me but don't ever disrespect my wife like that, James.' He gave a half ass apology. We paid the bill and split. Strike 2. 🖕🏽 Albertsons. Next stop:
Gas Station
The most we paid for fuel between Florida and the California border at Arizona was $1.99/gallon. Here in Tennessee, for example, fuel average is about $1.69/gallon. Fuel in California, however, double it--$3.49/gallon.
During the past two years, Pura and I ventured 13 different countries, withdrawing local fiats from each countries ATM's without any issues. Not one time, regardless of borders, did I have an issue with my bank. The first time I gassed up the car in California, our third stop in the Golden State in less than an hour, my bank alerted my phone to fraudulent activity and suspended my debit card for an unknown $75 transaction.
Knowing I didn't spend more than $50 on a 17 gallon gas tank, I phoned my bank immediately to notify them I, in fact, did not execute a $75 transaction at the gas station. That's when I was made aware fill-ups in California require a $75 "pre-authorization charge."
Unbeknownst to me as well as the majority of my uninformed friends, with California fuel prices being so outrageous, the station charges your debit card $75 at the pump prior to pumping a single drop of gas. Once you fill up, the dollar amount you spent is then charged to your debit card and the $75 pre-authorization charge is reimbursed. Because of that unexpected double charge which subsequently was reversed, my bank suspended my debit card until I called and spoke with a representative directly and explained the situation.