Friday, Oct. 11, 2002 - 11:41 a.m.

9:00 a.m. Waited impatiently for the Closet by Design people to come over and re-re-replace a wood door. After a self-examination (not the good kind) I realized I look forward to the dark haired dark eyed dark skinned tattoo clad goatee wearin� dangerously thuggish Spanish speaking installers coming over because it makes me feel like a hermano, like I�m part of a "hood", like I can hang with the homeboy�s, like my $4,000 975 thread count sheets and imported Scandinavian pure white goose down filled comforter isn�t enough to segregate me from my compadres.

9:26 a.m. They�re here. I quickly don my classic Dodger baseball cap, make sure there are no valuables in site, and strut to the door.

9:27 a.m. I greet them with a, "Hulo" but am immediately disappointed not to see last weeks guy with "la Sant�sima Virgen" tattooed on his throat. My plan for later self-examination (the good kind) shattered.

10:10 a.m. In the middle of my meltdown with the customer service manager of Closet by Design he rudely interrupts my tirade and tells me, "It�s not our fault." After the steam ceased emitting from my ears I asked, "What? You�ve got to be kidding me. Are you kidding me? You�re kidding me. You�d better be kidding me." The customer service manager says, "Sir, we�ve been out there four times I think you need to stop being so finicky." As I grabbed a kitchen towel to mop up the blood from the burst vein on my forehead I repeated, "What? You�ve got to be kidding me. Are you kidding me? You�re kidding me. You�d better be kidding me." And then added, "Cause if your not kidding me I�m gonna hire your own installers to beat the shit out of you, you stupid fuck! (pause) Hello? Shit!"

10:15 a.m. The way the installers looked at me told me we weren�t hermanos in the barrio and that we would never be hermanos in the barrio. And it was more than overpriced bedding, two foo-foo dogs, and straight teeth that separated us. It was my ability to scream on the phone to someone of authority. My freedom to go ballistic on someone other than a wife or kids. And as they attempted to flee my apartment as quickly as possible the older of the two guys kept speaking to me, in a language in which I have no comprehension of, and all I could do was look embarrassed and say, over and over, "Yeah, well...thanks for comin�."

10:25 a.m. In lieu of aspirin I ate me a king-size Snicker.

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