An Alphabetical Journey of the Places I Went in (and Around) the Twin Cities, Part 2

[This is a continuation of a previous post.]

5. King and I Thai. What happens when a car full of Asians pulls up to a downtown Minneapolis restaurant called "King and I Thai"? We all simultaneously roll our eyes, of course! I mean, you wouldn't name a Jewish delicatessen the "Fiddler on the Roof Deli" or a Chinese place the "Flower Drum Song Cuisine." It's just kind of, well, tacky. However, the late-night crowd here is pretty hip. When the kitchen closes (like it was when I arrived), the bar is still open for business and Shirley Temples. Jeff, Ewan, Amanda, and I spent our last night in Minneapolis there, talking about the state of Asian-American theater and not humming one single song from the Rodgers & Hammerstein musical—we, after all, have a shred of human decency. What do you think we are?! Barbarians?!

6. Mississippi River. Brandon led Kellie and me through a seminary campus and down very steep, nature-y paths so that I could finally touch the Mississippi River, one of the only things I wanted to do since I landed in the Twin Cities. I don't do nature (after all, nature is where psychopaths kill you—I mean, don't you ever watch movies?!), but I decided I had to be brave (there were stray rocks! there was pesky foliage! there were blood-sucking bugs!) in order to fulfill my wish. I hopped out onto a rock a few feet from the river's edge, crouched down, and scooped water into my hands. And, by god, you Mississippi River naysayers were wrong! The water was clean! I swear! I was hoping to report that I had some deep religious-like experience and that I started channeling and singing old spirituals, but that didn't happen. I just hummed "Proud Mary" on my way back up to the seminary. (Does that count?)

7. Mall of America. I have to say: the Mall of America is not as big and overwhelming as I expected it to be. It's laid out in a way that doesn't assault your senses the way, say, an oversize vagina might. (Or so I imagine.) I am, after all, a Southern Californian, which means I live in a land of malls (the ridiculously huge Glendale Galleria and the new and absurd Americana at Brand shopping center are both mere blocks from my home), so, when it comes to malls, it's going to take a hell of a lot to impress me. I mean, like the mall has to do some crazy-ass shit like morph the way a Transformers robot does and fly in the air and then fuck me in the ass for good measure. The Mall of America doesn't do that. It's just a mall. But I like it. 'Cuz I like malls. And I did ride a roller coaster that made me nearly crap my pants. (Now there's something most malls don't have—an amusement park—so maybe I should be more impressed.) More details and video footage of that ride will be in my next post.

[To be continued....]

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