jesse, father of david... you know, david and goliath... right, his dad.

I set a goal to wake up at 10 AM on Tuesday. So when I woke up at 2 PM, I showered, got dressed and headed out to the mall. I know that I live in New York City and could go shopping in SoHo and walk down 5^th Avenue and all of that. Meh. I went to the mall. I was just going to Macy’s and the Gap anyway, maybe smell some Cinnabon along the way. And while there, I remembered I love shopping for ties. They are arranged so neatly in their little color wheel. It’s all so sensory. I want to rub my face all over it. But I resist, for the most part.

I am regularly tricked by the salesperson rhetoric. I don’t know why I am so trusting or so naïve, but I sincerely believe they care about my day or are legitimately complimenting my taste. Thanks, I say, with a big grin. I do enjoy the bold combination of lime green and chocolate brown. I feel like it’s a daring take on earth tones. I get a lot of generous nods in response. I wholly imagine when I’m old and alone, I will buy plenty of things sold by door-to-door salesmen and send my money to anyone on TV who seems like a nice young man.

It even happens in the most mundane of interactions. Like getting carded. I get a lot of odd looks at my ID because it is an out-of-state license (and, more likely, because I’m 25 and the picture is a 15-year-old Jesse with a mouth full of braces). So sometimes, they do the check questions. “What’s your sign?” What the bouncer doesn’t realize is that he’s about to get a whole thing about my opinion on astrology. Surprise! “Well, I’m a Capricorn, but I’m not sure how much I believe in that kind of thing. I mean there is absolutely a sense of connectedness we all have, especially to the natural world. And I do think there is something to be said for that. But, can we predict the future based on our birthday and the stars? Well, that I question.” I get a polite nod.

Once, it was, “Oh, you’re from California? So am I. Where did you go to high school.” Oh, that person did not know the package she opened. “Well, let me spin you a yarn about a little place called Archbishop Mitty! Sit tight, Trader Joe’s Wine Shop lady. This will take a while.”

And while we’re on the topic, why do people whose job it is to read IDs all day not know how to read an ID? Like, you have heard of a middle name, right? You might even have one. I get “Jesse Williams” more times than I can even know what to do with. First of all, it doesn’t even say “Williams” it says “William.” Second of all, what do you think that word after that is? My title? Jesse Williams, Duke of Hall. Did you just get lazy? I read two words, no more no way no how! Any words beyond that are lost! (Also, if this were a spoken word piece, this would absolutely have been said using the Emerald City Guard voice, which is a voice I like to pull out every now and again.).

And while we’re on THAT topic, an interaction concerning my name I have more often than “Jesse Williams” goes a little something like this:

Sign-in table person: Last name please?

Jesse: Hall.

Sign-in table person: Hong?

Jesse: …no no. That is not at all what I said. That is what you wanted to hear.

It has happened so often that I start spelling it and adding a “like the room.” To the end. To no avail. “Hall, H-A-L-L, like the room.” “Hong?” Yes, that room we all have. Our Hong room, spelled like it sounds, H-A-L-L.

And while we’re on THAT topic, why do people expect that “Jesse” is short for something? “What do you think it is short for?” I ask. “Jes..s…ica?” Yeah, that’s what I thought. Although once I did say “like from the Bible,” which increased confusion. “Jesus?”

What was I talking about? Rubbing my face on a table full of ties? Yes. So, I love ties. And I bought two. This is about as exciting as it gets nowadays, folks.