Famous among dozens
JUNIOR HIGH SEXUAL POLITICS, OVERHEARD
Boy: Most guys think, If I could put my power drive up in her, that’d be alright.
Shiny Shirt Girl: What if he’s just not interested in doing it because he’s only 15?
Boy: Then he’s not a guy.
Shiny Shirt Girl: 15?!
Girl in Pigtails: I hate to say it, but I have to agree with George on this one.
5:15 p.m.
FASHION STATEMENT
While flipping through a magazine, I come across a one-panel cartoon that depicts �Afgani women�s wear� as though it were being sold at the Gap. The old woman sitting next to me on the bus points at the cartoon.
Her: I want to buy one of those.
Me: A chador?
Her: A burqa.
Me: Really?
Her: Sure. You never have to worry about how your hair looks, or if you�re getting wrinkly. You don�t have to do your nails.
Me: I suppose that’s true.
Man across from us: They never go out of style.
Her: Exactly. Exactly!
5:15 p.m.
OVERHEARD
Man: So, how’ve you been?
Woman: Good, you?
M: Not so good, our dog is sick again.
W: Oh, no!
M: Yeah, took him to the vet and he needs back surgery.
W: Wow.
M: Yeah, he’s been limping around. He’s 12 years old, so he’s getting on. They’re only supposed to live until they’re about 14. We just spent $600 on his eye problem. Mike and I share expenses for him. This surgery is going to be $4,000.
W: Oh my gosh! What are you going to do?
M: Go ahead with it. What can we do? The vet says most people put the dog down.
W: How terrible.
M: I know! We can’t do that. We’re just trying to give her a little more time.
W: Sure.
M: If the surgery doesn’t work, we’ll try acupuncture or something.
W: They have that for doggies?
M: Oh suuuure!
5:15 p.m.
MOMENT OF SILENCE
Is anyone else inexplicably bummed about Dave Thomas dying?
11:27 a.m.
FIT
I went to the gym this morning. Afterward, I had potato chips for breakfast.
9:08 a.m.
THANK GOD THAT’S OVER
Last year bit monkey butt. I spent too much time helping laid off friends move out of the city, fearing for my own job, dating boys who weren’t nearly nice enough to me, and crying in front of the evening news. I rang in the new year from the hill in Dolores Park. There were fireworks, many drunken friends, a communal bottle of champagne, and a boy who is unusually nice to me. Also, there was a naked guy. He stripped around 11:57 p.m., then ran up and down the muddy hill, sliding and diving into the puddles while we chanted, “NAK-ED GUY! NAK-ED GUY!” It was the best. Any year that begins with a muddy streaker is a year I can get behind. Happy 2002.
3:39 p.m.
WHEREFORE ART THOU?
Me: (Finishing up a story…) I thought it was pretty romantic.
Him: That is romantic.
(Pause)
Me: Have you ever noticed how a lot of guys are intent on telling women romantic things they’ve done for past girlfriends. It’s like, “Ooh, check me out. I’m such a sneak-attack Romeo.”
Him: Hm… You know, it seems like I’m always just about to do something when you say it’s dumb.
Me: What?
Him: Like, I was about to tell you my romantic story, and instead I’m all, “Huh-huh, yeah. Stupid guys.”
Me: Ha! Rad.
(Pause)
Me: Tell me your story then.
Him: No.
Me: Tell me.
Him: No.
12:35 p.m.
SIGH
I found a crumpled index card on the street. It reads, “Funny how the freedom of youth turns to loneliness in old age.”
4:29 p.m.
FUNNY BUSINESS
So while I was at Internet World, Christine Hefner, CEO of Playboy and daughter of Hugh, gave a keynote. She was articulate and interesting, but an easy target nonetheless. While I snickered whenever she said “protecting our assets,” Bryan provided the running commentary:
Her: The site attracted a whole new audience. As a matter of fact, most of them aren’t readers of the magazine. In fact, most of them don’t read magazines at all.
Bryan: In fact, most of them can’t read.
The most intriguing part of her speech was how artfully she euphemized. Below are her quotes and my translations:
“Our advertisers know that we’re one of the premiere magazines that focuses on the entertainment sector for men.”
Men are entertained by spread-eagle photos of teenagers, our advertisers hope they will drink Jack Daniels while they Pat the Robertson.
“My father and I have always had very complimentary interests. Mine on the strategic business side, my father on the creative side.”
I run the business, dad finds creative ways to schtoop blonde twins.
“We’re also developing sections of the site that focus on specialized photography.”
Catholic schoolgirls, Catholic schoolgirls and their sisters, Catholic schoolgirls and their cats, Catholic schoolgirl cheerleaders, Catholic schoolgirl cheerleader nurses…
2:21 p.m.
FRIEND’S A FRIEND
Overheard
Scenario: Three coworkers commute through the financial district.
Guy 1: Bunch of us went over to Tonic last night.
Guy 2: Yeah, who?
Guy 1: Me, and Jason, and Mark and them.
Guy 2: No Chet?
Guy 1: Chet never goes out with us after work.
Guy 2: He’s got some weird kind of personal life going on.
Guy 1: Yeah?
Guy 2: Like knows a bunch of people from college who live around here or something.
Guy 1: Huh. Did Jenn tell you that she met her Internet friend last night?
Jenn: (Warning tone.) Simmer down.
Guy 1: Friend’s a friend, Jenn.
Guy 2: Friends are fun, Jenn.
Jenn: (Stony silence as she flips through Land’s End catalogue.)
Jenn: …Maybe I’ll get a pair of fleece pants.
Guy 1: Why?
Jenn: For Minnesota.
Guy 1: You’re going to buy a pair of pants for a week-long trip?
Jenn: Yeah. Why not?
Guy 1: (Presumably pointing at a Hawiaan shirt.) That’s good for Fridays.
Guy 2: I stand firm that flowers on a shirt do not make it crazy. You know?
Guy 1: What?
Guy 2: Like you can’t just wear a Hawaiian shirt and call it a “crazy shirt.”
Guy 1: I guess.
2:21 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.
Mighty Girl 