Author: maggeh


OH, WHAT A FEELING

(Guy in car playing string instrument.)

Me: What’s he playing?

Guy 1: Looks like a mandolin or something.

Guy 2: ONE NIGHT ONLY! In my car!

(An hour later, walking back after breakfast.)

Me: What the…? He’s still there.

Guy 1: Hey, some guys have a favorite stairwell, some guys have a favorite street corner, he likes that Nissan.

Me: Please, it’s a Corolla. It’s probably not even his car.

Guy 2: He just trolls the streets looking for empty Corollas.

Guy 1: Corrolla’s got great acoustics, yo.

4:47 p.m.


OVERHEARD

Scenario: Ten college guys waiting at the 2nd Street Station.

Guy 1: (Extending a hunk of beef jerky to his friend.) Bite my big sausage.

Guy 2: No.

Guy 3: Bite it!

Guy 2: No, I’m not gonna.

Guy 4: C’mon, bite it!

Guy 5: Bite it! Bite it.

All: (General bite-it-related jeering).

Guy 2: No way.

Guy 1: C’mon, bite my big sausage.

Guy 2: No, man.

Guy 1: I’ll put in $20 if you bite my big sausage.

Guy3: Me too.

All: Me too.

Guy 1: That’s like a hundred bucks if you bite my big sausage.

Guy4: No way, he has to take two bites for a hundred bucks.

Guy 1: OK, two bites of my big sausage for a hundred bucks.

Guy 2: Cut it out.


DADA ON 58TH

The Hudson is a hip hotel, the kind of place where the bar floor is lit from below and the showers look like they could beam you up. After checking out, I turn to see a firefighter ascending the escalator in full fight-me-some-fire gear. He’s followed by another, and another… and so on. Suddenly, there are five men with oxygen tanks searching for smoke to a saucy Latin beat. No one seems to notice. I think, “Um, the building’s on fire.” I look at the guys in flame-retardant suits, I look at the counter people quacking pleasant counter banter. No one is curious, no one is ruffled, the speakers continue to coo “Oye Como Va.” An Asian woman admires the leopard-skin pillow on a lobby chair, her friend approves. To her right, a firefighter unfastens his pickaxe and peers into a suspect stairwell. I think, “Um, hey? Guys? Is the building on fire?” The firefighters’ search takes on less urgency, and a few guests begin to notice them. These people gather around the firemen with coffee table books on New York… and request autographs.

1:28 p.m.


PACKED ALL MY BLACK CLOTHES

I’m leaving for Internet World in New York tonight. This will be my first time in NY, suggestions welcome. If you’re at the show, please say hi.

1:28 p.m.


LIKE MINDS

More fun with Craigslist. Two recent favorites from the San Francisco general community section:

90 — MOHAWK advice needed (san francisco)

I have a brand new mohawk and need advice on how to look professional when I need to. Any tips on how to look cool on the weeked (sic) would be helpfull (sic) also.

thanks.

35 — Full Moon Circle?

Does anyone know of a full moon circle I could join? I’m female and would love to worship the moon w/ others! Let me know… THANKS!

1:28 p.m.


LADIES NIGHT EXCERPTS

Lady 1: Tell them about what you got John for Christmas. I think this is funny.

Lady 2: What?

Lady 1: Jane and I went Christmas shopping and she bought lacy undies for herself as John’s Christmas present.

Lady 3: Sweet.

Lady 1: I think it’s cute.

Lady 3: What do they look like?

Lady 2: (Describes skimpies.) My starvation diet starts tomorrow.

All: Hahaha.

Lady 4: Hence, the fat-free fudgecicles.

Lady 5: The fudgicles are fat free?

Lady 2: Yep.

Lady 5: Oh man! How could you do that to us?

Lady 2: They’re really good.

Lady 5: So close…yet so far. Well, I guess we could always dip them in frosting.

Lady 6: I think I’ve got some Magic Shell somewhere.

(Highlight of a short sanitary products discussion:)

Lady 1: Someone once said that removing a tampon is like pulling a dead, wet mouse out of a wine bottle by its tail.

All: Whoa!

Lady 1: Dead on though.

Lady 2: Yeah. Pretty much.

1:28 p.m.


AUTUMN ON THE WEST COAST

I walk past a florist every morning. About a month ago, I realized it was fall because all the buckets were filled with orange chrysanthemums. San Francisco foliage.

4:02 p.m.


SPEAKING OF “MORK AND MINDY”

Robin Williams was at the opening performance of “Proof” last night. He was wearing a suit with wide horizontal stripes in red, black, yellow, and green. We saw him at the after-party too, where one of my friends overheard him doing an impression of Osama Bin Laden’s answering machine: “Hi, this is Osama, I’m not coming to the phone right now. Leave a message. Beep!” Everything is funnier when you’re dressed like a carnival barker.

On the way home, we passed an adult bookstore with a marquee that read, “The female orgasm, fact or fiction?” Am I the only one who didn’t know this was still up for debate?

2:43 p.m.


ADVENTURES IN COPYEDITING

Scenario: Deadline day. Sitting on couch, proofreading with co-worker for the last eight hours.

Me: Ogg Vorbis sounds like something off of “Mork and Mindy.”

Her: Yeah, isn’t that weird? Did you see the company name?

Me: No… (Scans article.) Xiphophorous?

Her: That’s it.

Me: “Gentlemen, I present the honorable Ogg Vorbis from the planet Xiphophorous!”

Both: HAR! HAR! HAR!

Me: We’re really rummy.

Her: Yeah.

(a few minutes later)

Me: (’50s radio announcer voice) Ogg Vorbis! AAAAAHHHHG VVOOOORRBIS!

Both: HAR! HAR! HAR!

(pause)

Me: Our lives are tiny and sad.

1:13 p.m.


TRUTH IN ADVERTISING

There’s a tattoo parlor near my sister’s place called House of Pain. If I ever open a small business, I’m going to give it a similarly candid name. Perhaps a bikini-waxing salon called Torture Your Tenders. People appreciate honesty.

4:02 p.m.