“Grande coffee in a venti cup with 2 pumps of hazelnut, 2 pumps of vanilla, 2 pumps of caramel, 2 equals and 4 sweet and lows filled to the top with cream, with extra cream on the side, double cupped with no sleeve, a stir stick, and stopper put in the top.” The plump woman in front said, waving a long magenta painted nail at him. Kile smiled brightly,” Of course ma’am! Coming right up!” “Don’t get smart with me young man! Or else we just might get the cuffs out.” Her wink sent literal chills down his spine. Ew. He had gotten many flirtatious remarks in his line of work before, he was fairly pretty for a guy, but that never really worked out well for him. Sure, he got some girls’ numbers from time to time, but it was almost always one old lady. One old lady each and everyday that scared his potential girlfriends away. This was one of the regulars. Mrs. Plum as he wanted to call her, but alas, her name was nowhere near Mrs. or Plum. Misses Rosenberg. And alas again, she was no rose. Just the thorns that were run over a couple of times with a lawn mower. …show more content…
Rush hour was ending soon, hopefully. Kile rushed around trying to fill out the outrageous order. Sometimes he wonders if people do this just to see if it was possible to remember all that useless bullcrap. He did. He always did. He was a college student after all, remembering useless stuff was his specialty. “Here you go ma’am! Your payment will be three ninety-five.” Kile’s fake smile plastered on his face again. Miss Rosenberg looked at him with slitted pale green eyes,” Four bucks for a cup of coffee? Now Kiley, you wouldn’t be rude as to be ripping me off, right?” “It’s three dollars and ninety-five cents ma’am.” “Alright alright, fine! You’re no fun today, Kiley.” She handed over her credit card and took her
Fancy a gorgeous woman in her early forties, with fire engine red hair, a prosperous business woman with a successful escort service, a penthouse in Brooklyn and a jet plane. Her pilot, Samuel and private assistant, Leona accompanied her,
"How much do you want? Just get me out of here!" Yelled a man holding up a wad of money to her face.
Late 20th century Los Angeles, California was a bustling, diverse, and segregated city. Both El Norte (1983) and Falling Down (1993) depict Los Angeles in revealing ways. Falling Down in particular has many shots of the city itself; in fact, the first scene in the film takes place in a classic LA traffic jam on the highway. It shows cars lined up and not moving on the highway as far as the eye can see, with construction going on around them. It is also very hot in LA. The people are sweating, it’s sunny outside, bugs are flying around, and there are palm trees around the highway. Similarly, one of the last shots in El Norte shows a busy highway with the LA skyline in the background. That shot with the skyscrapers, cars driving quickly by, and palm trees is one of the most iconic images of LA in either film.
It’s all over. It’s never gonna happen. Last night hope was restored and now a shadows has been thrown over my life. A purpose was returned into my life in Crooks’ bunk. A plan was set for me, for Lennie and George. And it’s all ruined! By this wretched girl! Glaring down at her, my heart softened…just a little. All those times I witnessed her flirting with Slim and the other fellas, even Carlson. Giving each one of the guys the eye, a flick of the hair here and a wink there. She must’ve hated Curley real bad to be teasing guys like that, and there he goes with Vaseline in his hand to ‘please’ the Mrs. Just a waste of Vaseline if you ask me.
He then transfers me to the waiter’s number. The waiter explains that he served a couple and a close friend last night. However, during the dinner, the friend and Caroline had gotten into an altercation. The husband, on the other hand, was very quiet; all he did was smoke the tobacco pipe. The one thing that caught the waiter’s eye was a pipe that had a design of the Essex ship. The information that came across, led to a woman named Madeline Crook. She has been a close co-worker of Caroline for the past few years. I rush over to the address of Miss Crook’s home. Before I even knock, a woman with blonde hair, average height, and strong makeup swings the door open.
First, there is Mr. Peters’ interpretation of his wife’s preference of having a female accomplice when she is to gather things for Mrs. Wright; the reader is given insight to this when Mr. Peters asks Mrs. Hale to come along with them because “…he guessed [Mrs. Peters] was getting scared…” (Glaspell). This symbol represents the fragility men in the nineteenth century associated with their wives, daughters, and women in general because of their rank in the social system. Second, is the way in which the men speak to or down to the women in general, almost as if they were children. For example, on multiple occasions Mr. Hale makes a mockery of the women by belittling them without the slightest intent to take them seriously. The first occasion is in response to the attorney’s remark over Mrs. Wright having more significant things to worry about other than her fruit jars: “’Oh well…women are used to worrying over trifles’” (Glaspell). With this remark, Mr. Peters is ultimately invalidating the logical worries Mrs. Wright had over her fruit jars. The second occasion he does this is after the county attorney asks the women to keep an eye out for clues, to which he responds, “’But would the women know a clue if they did come upon it?’” (Glaspell). By doing this once more, Mr. Peters brings attention to himself through his underestimation of the women’s capabilities, thus rendering himself of the superior sex. The final noteworthy occasion where the
“Sorry...I don’t seem to have two dollars and eighteen cents,” Says June. She looks back to see about four people waiting behind her, antsy for her to hurry up.
“Yes, you there, that man er—young man I spoke to earlier,” she shrilled, clumsily trotting across the street. “Yes, you,” she panted, grasping hold of her centered, skirt slit and swiftly darting across the grass. “Oh it’s wet, the grass is moist,” she wailed. “Yes, you there,” she said again, pointing at me, nearing closer and clamoring up the porch steps. “Oh look, those are some beautiful, Ah—deadly roses!” she squawked, “I think they just made a ladder in my favorite tights.” Her face looked like it was going to sob again, but briskly, she straightened her stance and blew out a sharp breath. “I know,” she said breathlessly, “you're probably wondering what this horrendous woman is is doing in front of you and—oh my god, is this street full of supermodels!” her eyes shifted distractedly, gawking at Gemma. “You look like an angel. Your light, champagne blond hair is so gorgeous, and you're so lean and perfect—how tall are you? She quizzed Gemma.
“Ooh! Um, can you do a white chocolate mocha, but with raspberry? Yeah, that. And uh… Fuck...” I look back to the menu, trying to remember what Eddie had requested a moment ago. “The thing! Java… blended thing. Java chip frappuccino. That’s it. One of those.” We lock eyes for a moment and I beam up at him. “Uh, that’s it. I think. Yes, definitely. Thank you!” I handed him a wad of cash and turned around, cursing myself for being so painstakingly awkward. It was as if I hadn’t had human interaction for months rather than just a few
For this story, I will use Mrs. Mallard as the example, and will discuss her challenges and struggles. According to the text, she was “afflicted with a heart trouble," so based on that alone we know that she struggled with delicate health issues. The narrator further described her as, “young, with a fair, calm face, whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength.” The ‘lines’ or wrinkles of repression that he speaks of is most likely caused by the stress of suppressing feelings or emotions in her life. Although she described her husband in a positive light, I do not believe she was happy and/or in love with him. My assumption is based on the fact that she demonstrated an incredible sense of relief when she thought he had passed on.
“Large café latte?” the barista at Lake Avalon Coffee shop called out in a cheerful voice.
Women are taught from a young age that marriage is the end all be all in happiness, in the short story “The Story of An Hour” by Kate Chopin and the drama “Poof!” by Lynn Nottage, we learn that it is not always the case. Mrs. Mallard from “The Story of an Hour” and Loureen from “Poof!” are different characteristically, story-wise, and time-wise, but share a similar plight. Two women tied down to men whom they no longer love and a life they no longer feel is theirs. Unlike widows in happy marriages Loureen and Mrs., Mallard discover newfound freedom in their respective husband’s deaths. Both stories explore stereotypical housewives who serve their husbands with un-stereotypical reactions to their husband’s deaths.
In “The Story of an Hour” we are taken through a journey. The journey is the thoughts and emotions going through Mrs. Mallards (Louise) mind. The journey only takes an hour, so everything moves at a fast pace. Louise seemed to process the news of her husband’s death without an initial element of disbelief and shock. She goes right into the reaction of grieving for her husband. She quickly begins to feel other emotions. At first she does not understand them. The journey is a way that Louise comes to her final thoughts of freedom. She looks into the future and looks forward to living a long life on her own terms.
During the Thirty Years War, Armand-Jean du Pleases, Cardinal de Richelieu, France’s chief minister, thought of the brilliant idea to create a foreign policy that would have Europe at a satisfactory level. The foreign policy would have Central European countries run divided but there would be a balance of power between all the major powers at that time (23). The Peace of Westphalia was were “the concept of state sovereignty was established” (26). The Peace of Westphalia ensured that each country would have their own religion, structure, and politics, and it would not be taken over by another country. For more than two centuries, Richelieu’s time as France’s chief master, to Bismarck’s proclamation of the German Empire, that foreign policy
In “The Autonomous Female Self and the Death of Louise Mallard in Kate Chopin’s ‘Story of an Hour,’” Mark Cunningham expresses his opinion on how he believes Mrs. Mallard dies in Chopin’s short story. “The Story of an Hour” was written in the late 1890s, during a time when it was controversial for women to be independent. The ending of her story has created somewhat of a dilemma among readers for years. Some people conclude one ending based on the details and clues Chopin wrote throughout the story, while others come up with a totally different opinion. Mark Cunningham writes a brilliant article on his view of the story’s ending, where he clearly conveys his take on Louis Mallard’s death. Although there are many times when he repeats the same information, Cunningham makes good use of textual evidence and authorities, as well as logic, which makes it easy to agree with his claim.