Maui Swap Meet

Screw dating Ryan and Amy, if things don't work out with C, I'm gonna marry the Maui swap meet. Do C and Ryan have banana lumpia? Do they have cherimoyas? (C sometimes does have cherimoyas, actually. But he tends to hoard them.) Does they have a wide assortment of tropical fruit that smell like feet? Are they the only place on the goddamned island where we can find a hat that fits my improbable melon? (Once again; C, his large dome, and fragile beak is occasionally a good source for protective headwear. More frequently he is a sink.) Sure, the Maui Swap Meet has a lot of reeeaally bad artwork, burned CDs, and kitschy tee-shirts...

Huh.

I think I see a pattern in significant other flaws.

But very few of the Maui Swap Meet's tee shirts involve anime from the '90s.

The Plan

I'm back at the parental abode, where my life is very dull. Thus, I'll be posting things that happened in Maui. I'm not there, I'm just pretending.

So one of the books I got at Maui friends of the library is the 1970's classic "I'm OK, You're OK". It's the granddaddy of all books on relationship games- and as the world's reigning champion of "Yes, But" I am interested.

Amy said animal training is based on a game: the friendly game. I believe that it involves convincing a horse that you are friendly and have the best judgement. You expose it to all sorts of disconcerting stimuli, and prove that nothing bad will happen as a result. The horse slowly grows to trust your assessment of the situation more than its instincts.

When I think about this game, I have a particular mental image. I see myself cooking some inedible glop in the kitchen of the Glacier apartments, and Amy holding up a plastic grocery bag. She waves it back and forth so it rustles, and then she says something pleasant. Rustle rustle rustle, compliment on my cooking. Rustle rustle, offer to do dishes.

As far as I can recall, this didn't actually happen.

Gelato!

We made it to the free gelato with the help of a befuddled and inebriated hitchhiker. We picked her up, drove 20 minutes out of our way to drop her off, and insisted that she have some ice cream. She snuck off into the night before our drugged gelato kicked in and we sold her to slavers. Or before we hit on her hard core, and the delicious dessert made refusing awkward.

Poki.

The seafood section of the grocery store is 2/3 raw fish salads. I love it; it's the inverse of going to Wisconsin and finding the HUGE jello salad section.

We'll make it.

Amy has a punch card- where you buy ten of something and get one free- for a local gelato shop. Our goal for my visit is to get that free gelato. The rest of this post will be listing flavors.

Lilikoi

Lilikoi and goat cheese

Mango

Pineapple

Mint Strachitella

Sea mist: lime, green tea, lemon grass

Coconut

Raspberry

Strawberry

Coffee

Macademia nut

Pumpkin

Sour Cream. (Hah)

Also, there is banana lumpia.

And goat cheese.

Maui

is full of industrial areas overgrown with plants. For some reason, this combination has always pleased me. An abandoned lot full of invasive species makes me depressed, but if the blackberries and hops are crawling over rusted pipes or aluminum siding, I feel deep satisfaction.

It might not be that full of plants and abandoned (or active) factories- but Amy's avoiding the highways and barreling down cane roads instead.

Amy took me out to the best bookstore ever- a shack stuffed full of slightly moldy books with a live chicken in the philosophy section. All books are ten cents. Amy bought some books on 1950s agriculture, and some books on how the environmental movement is crazy. (this way other people can't buy them) I bought a whole bunch of classic science fiction because such books should cost a dime. Upon return, she stole a couple of my books.

I've tried stealing "Soil, the 1957 Yearbook of Agriculture" but it's a tough read.