thisisnotreallyablogforreal
Monday, October 24, 2005
Best Compliment Ever
I’m minding my own business at the daycare (holding a baby, trying to make it laugh, thinking about suicide etc.) when this mother comes in and starts playing with her kid. I notice that she's kind of staring at me. No, she’s not kind of staring at me; she’s definitely staring at me. More specifically, she’s staring at my chest. Her eyes travel up and down my body several times and then park on my breasts. I'm getting a little uneasy. First I think that maybe I'm showing a little too much cleavage, but I look down and the amount of top breast showing is not gratuitous in relation to my shirt (which is a normal sized, scoop tank top). Then I think that maybe this mother thinks I'm hot and wants to bang me, or use me for sex and then try to get to me to raise her kid all by myself while she goes from daycare to daycare banging the well-endowed help. I am just about to shout out, "You bitch, I will NOT teach your son to read while you’re busy pussy hopping on the Upper West!" when suddenly she speaks.
Her: Excuse me, I know this is kind of weird and it's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I was wondering if you got your surgery in Manhattan and if you wouldn't mind sharing with me the name of your doctor?
(I look down at my "fake" breasts and try to look uncomfortable, abashed, and insulted)
Me: Oh, (I fake a shy laugh as if I don’t like talking about these things) no, no I've had these awhile. B cup in 5th grade. I can tell you where I got my bra though.
(She looks down at my breasts and then flashes me a quick, forced smile. She scans my body again as if the name of my "surgeon" will pop out from my body like one of those illusion drawings that you have to look at cross eyed.)
Her: That's okay, I guess some people just don't like talking about this stuff.
And then she continues to play with son, all the while thinking that my breasts are fake!
I’m in shock. I don’t know whether to be really flattered or really offended. I put the baby down on the floor ( she’s gotta learn to sit up one day) and begin to scream and wildly gesticulate.
"No, seriously they're real. Touch them! TOUCH THEM! Don’t be shy, go on and grab them! Ha! Told you so! Oh, and see ( I start to shimmy) when I MOVE, THEY MOVE. Look at them, they're all the over the place. Oh, look! (I'm on my back now) See how they split to my sides? See? See?! That's what real boobs do!!"
Okay, that’s not true. I just looked at her demurely and said,
"It was a doctor outside New York. Sorry."
Speaking of: my tits and ass made a cameo appearance in, the post show today.
It's their internet premier! Whoo hoo!
*********************************************************
This Wednesday my friend Josh is doing a show in NYC.
Here's an except about it from the Chicago Sun-Times:
In "Help Wanted: A Personal Search for Meaningful Employment at the Start of the 21st Century," Lefkowitz, a bristlingly smart, boyish fellow in his early 20s, chronicles his depressive post-college days in a clever, confident, knowingly precocious way (at moments even verging on the smug) that is neatly and unapologetically imitative of Gray. Wildly ambitious yet almost equally self-deflating, Lefkowitz tells us about his first job -- as a garage attendant -- where he spent most of his time reading, including Gray's landmark work "Swimming to Cambodia." (A friend recommended it, noting that Gray "is charming and narcissistic, like you.")
Lefkowitz dangles the possibility of his sexual ambuguity in front of us but doesn't elaborate; he talks about his young but insightful peace-and-love girlfriend Annika, who works at an Army-Navy surplus store; he neatly limns his relationship with his father; he even starts to believe in the self-affirming qualities of suburban life and a steady job. Most crucially, he makes a trip to New York to see Gray, and to wait for him at the stage door and ask him out for a drink. Hero worship is one of Lefkowitz's pervasive themes, and the dimming of a hero (Gray was truly on his last legs when Lefkowitz met him) is rendered with enormous power here in what turns out to be a crushing reality check.
The show is this Wedneday @8
258 Bowery
Tix are $10-15 donation.
******************************************
I'm working on some other writing, and saving the ozone, and fighting crime, etc. so, sorry for the lack of updates.
|
Her: Excuse me, I know this is kind of weird and it's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I was wondering if you got your surgery in Manhattan and if you wouldn't mind sharing with me the name of your doctor?
(I look down at my "fake" breasts and try to look uncomfortable, abashed, and insulted)
Me: Oh, (I fake a shy laugh as if I don’t like talking about these things) no, no I've had these awhile. B cup in 5th grade. I can tell you where I got my bra though.
(She looks down at my breasts and then flashes me a quick, forced smile. She scans my body again as if the name of my "surgeon" will pop out from my body like one of those illusion drawings that you have to look at cross eyed.)
Her: That's okay, I guess some people just don't like talking about this stuff.
And then she continues to play with son, all the while thinking that my breasts are fake!
I’m in shock. I don’t know whether to be really flattered or really offended. I put the baby down on the floor ( she’s gotta learn to sit up one day) and begin to scream and wildly gesticulate.
"No, seriously they're real. Touch them! TOUCH THEM! Don’t be shy, go on and grab them! Ha! Told you so! Oh, and see ( I start to shimmy) when I MOVE, THEY MOVE. Look at them, they're all the over the place. Oh, look! (I'm on my back now) See how they split to my sides? See? See?! That's what real boobs do!!"
Okay, that’s not true. I just looked at her demurely and said,
"It was a doctor outside New York. Sorry."
Speaking of: my tits and ass made a cameo appearance in, the post show today.
It's their internet premier! Whoo hoo!
*********************************************************
This Wednesday my friend Josh is doing a show in NYC.
Here's an except about it from the Chicago Sun-Times:
In "Help Wanted: A Personal Search for Meaningful Employment at the Start of the 21st Century," Lefkowitz, a bristlingly smart, boyish fellow in his early 20s, chronicles his depressive post-college days in a clever, confident, knowingly precocious way (at moments even verging on the smug) that is neatly and unapologetically imitative of Gray. Wildly ambitious yet almost equally self-deflating, Lefkowitz tells us about his first job -- as a garage attendant -- where he spent most of his time reading, including Gray's landmark work "Swimming to Cambodia." (A friend recommended it, noting that Gray "is charming and narcissistic, like you.")
Lefkowitz dangles the possibility of his sexual ambuguity in front of us but doesn't elaborate; he talks about his young but insightful peace-and-love girlfriend Annika, who works at an Army-Navy surplus store; he neatly limns his relationship with his father; he even starts to believe in the self-affirming qualities of suburban life and a steady job. Most crucially, he makes a trip to New York to see Gray, and to wait for him at the stage door and ask him out for a drink. Hero worship is one of Lefkowitz's pervasive themes, and the dimming of a hero (Gray was truly on his last legs when Lefkowitz met him) is rendered with enormous power here in what turns out to be a crushing reality check.
The show is this Wedneday @8
258 Bowery
Tix are $10-15 donation.
******************************************
I'm working on some other writing, and saving the ozone, and fighting crime, etc. so, sorry for the lack of updates.
<< Home