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2001-08-23 - 9:11a.m.

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-- Let me first say that I am not a racist. I am only commenting on the people around me, and since I am the same race as them, then I feel I can comment...--

Here in my little corner of the world, we call them F.O.B.s-- not "eff-oh-bees" but "fobs". I'm pretty sure you've come across them-- folks new to the country, whose only knowledge about the "American" way of thinking is the biased propaganda coming from their local news service or some 15 year old rerun of the A-Team or Different Strokes. The kid that has a brand-name designer label obnoxiously showing on every article of clothing he owns, because some fool on "The Real World" was wearing his clothes that way three seasons ago.

Working in a consumer electronics store, selling high-end car audio equipment in a commission environment, I come across these people who think that for some reason we are on some kind of barter system, or that the "high-end" store that I work in is somehow tied in with some swap meet or something... now I know I've rambled and nagged and complained about this before, but it is happening so often now, that it is slowly becoming more and more fucked up than funny. The following is a conversation I had last night with only one of the numerous fobs I come across that have one thing in mind-- wanting the expensive stuff, but still being cheap.

Besides the usual "Hey dude, are you Filipino?? You are?? Do I get a discount?"
...or as they say, (going into my deep filipino accent) "Ay doooo... yooo peeleepeeno? yooo are? oh goood... yoooo geeb meee deees-cowwwn?"

last night I got, "I know dat da sign sayeees tree-hundred-porty-nine dollar... whaat ees my price?" (translated: "I know that the sign says $349, what's MY price?)

me: "Uhhh, ok bro... I didnt know you had your own price... is your name Michael Jordan or do you own your own country or something?"

"ahhhh.... no...(glaring at me with a look of confusion, as if I REALLY seriously thought his name was Michael Jordan) come on mang... geeb meee deees-cowwwn doooooo..." (translated: "Uhhhh, no... c'mon man, give me a discount dude..."

"Dude, I work on commission... if I give you a discount, then I'll be taking away from my own paycheck... and right now I'm sorry I can't afford to do that. Do you really want my kids to go without a meal for a day because you can't pay the normal price that everyone else pays? (of course, I have no kids, but fob-boy doesn't know this) Maybe you might want to talk to my manager..."

"no, dat's okayee...� he's not peeleepeeno..."(translated: No, that's ok... he's not filipino...)

"oh, but he is.... HEY BEN!!!" as I walk away murmuring, "fucking fob...."

1:10 PM-- damn... been scrambling to try and get a van/minivan/suv for the trip and it's not going too well.� Larry has been trying to help me out since it's his credit card were using for the deposit, but no one's got anything available for that week (for some wierd reason I keep hearing the excuse "because it's labor day weekend...", but then we aren't even planning to have it for the weekend, only three days BEFORE the weekend even starts; oh yeah, and a minivan is not big enough to hold 8, possibly 9 people, so we're gonna have to either roll in a big SUV (fucked on gas) or a full-size van (fucked on gas and drivability). Imagine yourself pulling up to a swanky Hollywood club in a fuckin family van.... yeeeeeeah! LOL

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