Friday, July 20, 2007

Culture Clash: Tales From the Couch f. CerebralShrike

Follow CerebralShrike as he delves into the hearts and minds of a couple on the edge of a culture clash. Despite their love for each other Quashonnan (Shannon) Perry and Santiago Ibarra find themselves often misunderstanding and misinterpreting their unique ethnic differences.

As they approach the alter to solidify themselves as one, they must first learn how to function as individuals and accept each others as proud representatives of their heritage.

Shannon and Santiago will each attend a counseling session separately and then together to see if they can create a bond using only the culture of love.


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Session One: Santiago Speaks:

I need your help, doc. As you know, I've been dating Shannon for about two years now. Out of either sheer insanity or something, I proposed to her recently. It was all good until I noticed that we were starting to not get along so well. Of course, all couples go through that phase. It started when she she moved her things into my place. I know, I know. We're living in sin. I've heard it from her parents, who by the way, still think I'm some kind of handyman. I swear, her mom called me at 2:00am the other night to replace the lightbulb in her porchlight. What the hell? This after countless times I've been called over to fix their sink and respackle a wall. They act like I spend my entire day outside the Home Depot waiting for them to call me!

Her parents are cool, I guess, when they are not treating me like an immigrant who just crossed the border. I thought I was going to have to cuss one of them out the other night when they asked me what part of Mexico I'm from when they know good and damn well I'm from Detroit. Oh, and Shannon doesn't want me to say anything. It's almost like, "my parents are racist assholes, but don't say anything to them." Like, because they're black they can get away with that shit? Now, when someone tells you something like that, what are you going to do?

A great example would be the other night when we all went to dinner at some downtown bistro. I haven't had a job for about a month. In fact, I've been living off savings for awhile. Why, oh why does her mother pick that night to mess with me about that? So I let out a yawn toward the end of the night. Big deal, right? No, she had to pick at it. She asked me what was wrong, and I told her that I was tired. "Hard day at the office?" She asked as she took a long sip from her wine glass. (She drinks like a fish) Hell no! I wasn't taking that. So I shot back with, "yes, cutting lawns is very tiring work." I felt a hard nudge in the ribs at that very moment. Shannon was very displeased. Her mother looked at me as if I had three heads, or something.

Shannon can't cook. I asked her to make me some smothered chicken with mashed potatoes and jiffy cornbread. She laughed at me. Then she told me that she wanted some enchiladas, tamales, and tacos. Do I look like taco bell? My mother, out of the goodness of her heart, tried to teach Shannon how to make her tortillas. I think she burned about eight of them before my mother just gave up on her.

She has habits, too. She insisted putting her own digital alarm clock in the bedroom, instead of mine. My digital alarm clock is simple. It comes with the basic alarm sound, not the newfangled way of doing things. I mean...who wants to hear music in the morning? It actually puts me to sleep. That familiar beeping noise is a-okay with me. That first morning with her alarm clock I was awaken to the sounds of one of her gospel cds. It was very loud, and for a moment, I really, really, hated The Winans.

Why is she even playing gospel? She never goes to church; only on Easter and whenever they have fellowship dinner at her church. She dragged me to that church once. I have to say, her pastor is a bit odd. I mean, the man preaches at one of the poorest churches in town and he drives a brand-new maroon Cadillac, and owns half the houses on his block. On top of all that, he even owns a tiny strip mall nearby.

"I'm tired of watching BET," I say to her one evening, as we lay about on the couch. "Can we watch something else?"

"My movie is on."

"It's Sugar hill. They've been showing it all week. You own the damn thing on DVD!"

"Hersh! They're coming back from commercial."

"You own the damn movie on DVD!!"

"Are you going to be quiet or not?"

"It's been edited for content? They can't even show half the movie cause it's on basic cable!"

"If you keep this up I'm going to the bedroom."

I sometimes wish she would go back to the Shannon that I knew before I proposed. The Shannon I knew before she moved in and I saw all her weird quirks. To be totally honest, before I met her folks, I thought she was the nicest, sweetest woman I'd ever met. She sides with them a lot, as well as the rest of her family. When her cousin, who sells bootleg clothes out of the back of her truck, tried to play me over ten dollars on a pair of pants, I went on a tirade about it, in my own house, and Shannon just goes off on me for talking about her cousin. Mind you, I just got taken for ten dollars...I should be able to say what I want in my own crib.

Once again, sometimes...sometimes I really do wish I hadn't met her in that club. And sometimes I wish that I hadn't given her the eye. The way she was wearing that dress was killing me that night. Perhaps if my hormones weren't on overload, I wouldn't have went over and bought her that drink.

At the end of the day, though, I straight up love her.

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What's Shannon got to say about all this? Find out next time on Culture Clash: Tales From the Couch.

2 comments:

Samuel Colunga said...

Hey, I wrote that! And oh, the S in cerebralshrike isn't capitalized. Just an FYI. Don't kick me.

StickyKeys said...

**KICK KICK KICK!**

I'm sorry, what?