[Setting: a crowded aisle in Trader Joe's, Brooklyn. SARAH is studying the particularly extensive selection of dried fruits. She is clearly a customer, as evinced by her civilian clothing and the basket half-full of affordable organic goods in her arms. Several feet away, a WOMAN spots SARAH in the crowd, and begins to push toward her. SARAH looks up.]
WOMAN: Excuse me, do you know where the ramen noodles are in this store?
SARAH: Uh...no, I don't. Sorry.
WOMAN: Oh, ok. (Walks away)
[Curtain]
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
wedding reception small talk
Man: Are you a relative of Joan or Rob?
Woman: No. College friend, actually.
Man: Ah. I’m at Rob’s firm. They look good together, huh?
Woman: They sure do.
Man: I didn’t know Rob could dance.
Woman: No one did.
Man: Are you married?
Woman: You mean legally? Or, am I emotionally and physically committed to someone?
Man: Uh, either, I guess.
Woman: Then yes, I am.
Man: Oh. Which is it?
Woman: Does it matter?
Man: Well, it seems to matter to you.
Woman: It does matter to me and it shouldn’t to you, but I’ll tell you anyway: the latter.
Man: The latter.
Woman: Yes. Have you been paying attention?
Man: Of course.
Woman: So we understand each other.
Man: I guess.
(PAUSE)
Man: So, wait—can I ask you out?
Woman: That depends. Are you a smarmy douchebag?
Man: Well, yes.
Woman: Then, by all means, do proceed.
Man: Can I call you som—
Woman: No, sorry. I’m married.
Woman: No. College friend, actually.
Man: Ah. I’m at Rob’s firm. They look good together, huh?
Woman: They sure do.
Man: I didn’t know Rob could dance.
Woman: No one did.
Man: Are you married?
Woman: You mean legally? Or, am I emotionally and physically committed to someone?
Man: Uh, either, I guess.
Woman: Then yes, I am.
Man: Oh. Which is it?
Woman: Does it matter?
Man: Well, it seems to matter to you.
Woman: It does matter to me and it shouldn’t to you, but I’ll tell you anyway: the latter.
Man: The latter.
Woman: Yes. Have you been paying attention?
Man: Of course.
Woman: So we understand each other.
Man: I guess.
(PAUSE)
Man: So, wait—can I ask you out?
Woman: That depends. Are you a smarmy douchebag?
Man: Well, yes.
Woman: Then, by all means, do proceed.
Man: Can I call you som—
Woman: No, sorry. I’m married.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Life Imitates Art*
Two politics-related, hard to believe facts:
1) Barack Obama's speechwriter is named Jon Favreau.
2) Al Franken may soon be a United States Senator.
* Note: the works of Messrs. Favreau and Franken might not be considered art.
1) Barack Obama's speechwriter is named Jon Favreau.
2) Al Franken may soon be a United States Senator.
* Note: the works of Messrs. Favreau and Franken might not be considered art.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
dvds I watched recently: 2 second reviews based solely on emotional response
1.) Iron Man - Trying to enjoy, but very distracted by the facial hair.
2.) Buena Vista Social Club - Cubans = awesome. Ry Cooder = the big suck.
3.) Sex and the City - No emotional response. Only emptiness.
(author's note: A fellow contributor had pointed out that I had mistakenly referred to point 3 as "Sex IN the City." According to him, Sex in the City sounds like an entirely different kind of movie - one that he would more likely enjoy.)
2.) Buena Vista Social Club - Cubans = awesome. Ry Cooder = the big suck.
3.) Sex and the City - No emotional response. Only emptiness.
(author's note: A fellow contributor had pointed out that I had mistakenly referred to point 3 as "Sex IN the City." According to him, Sex in the City sounds like an entirely different kind of movie - one that he would more likely enjoy.)
Monday, October 13, 2008
The Happiest Place on Earth
On an unassuming, otherwise unremarkable street in downtown Milwaukee sits a cozy cafe-bar called Comet. The menu is extensive and includes a funkified list of sandwiches; my favorite, "The Leghorn" ($7.50), is an inspired combination of pulled chicken, red onion, cream cheese, tomato, cucumber, and peach jelly between two slices of multi-grain toast. Given the overwhelming preponderance of bead/hemp necklaces and long-underwear-sleeves-beneath-black-t-shirts in the place, meat-substitute options abound. Of these, the deep-fried vegan ribs ($9.50 full order/$6.50 half) are probably the most perplexing option, though the vegan Salisbury steak ($10) is a close second. By day, young alterna-midwesterners nestle in mismatched booths, clutch thick mugs of coffee with both hands and peruse the latest Onion headlines. By night, a red neon sign above the bar which reads "the club is open" illuminates the array of porcelain and stuffed animals that perch whimsically on the wooden shelf beneath it. To be sure, the tousled, affectionately angsty Milwaukeeans lining the bar recognize this line from the Guided by Voices' album "Alien Lanes."
But I stray. As is common practice for great bars nationwide, Comet boasts daily bar specials which are scrawled in multicolored chalk on a board hung by the kitchen. I've gone to Comet upon each return visit to Milwaukee since 2004, and these specials have never changed. Monday's special is $2 PBRs; Tuesday's is $3 Classic Cocktails. But my absolute favorite, and the inspiration for this post, is the Sunday night special: Free basket of bacon with $2.50 bar purchase.
Let's dissect that.
1. $2.50 purchase. In New York, I spend $2.50 at a bar just looking at the bartender. Asking for a glass of tap water costs me at least $5. So the $2.50 requirement here is pret-ty spectacular.
1. Free basket of bacon. This is not the cheap, 95% fat bacon you buy at Key Foods-- this is the crispy, thick-cut stuff that looks like it was hacked off the loin with a chisel. And it's not one piece, not a couple, but an entire basket. Free. Basket. Free. Gratis. Everybody got that?
Now let's all take a trip to Milwaukee. We can stay with my mom.
(N.B.: I partook in this special one night with my old friend Chris several years ago. We drank martinis and devoured the bacon with our hands till all that remained was the grease-transparent wax paper lining the basket. I went home and slept soundly, but Chris claims the vodka-pork product combination gave him nightmares. Small price to pay, I say.)
But I stray. As is common practice for great bars nationwide, Comet boasts daily bar specials which are scrawled in multicolored chalk on a board hung by the kitchen. I've gone to Comet upon each return visit to Milwaukee since 2004, and these specials have never changed. Monday's special is $2 PBRs; Tuesday's is $3 Classic Cocktails. But my absolute favorite, and the inspiration for this post, is the Sunday night special: Free basket of bacon with $2.50 bar purchase.
Let's dissect that.
1. $2.50 purchase. In New York, I spend $2.50 at a bar just looking at the bartender. Asking for a glass of tap water costs me at least $5. So the $2.50 requirement here is pret-ty spectacular.
1. Free basket of bacon. This is not the cheap, 95% fat bacon you buy at Key Foods-- this is the crispy, thick-cut stuff that looks like it was hacked off the loin with a chisel. And it's not one piece, not a couple, but an entire basket. Free. Basket. Free. Gratis. Everybody got that?
Now let's all take a trip to Milwaukee. We can stay with my mom.
(N.B.: I partook in this special one night with my old friend Chris several years ago. We drank martinis and devoured the bacon with our hands till all that remained was the grease-transparent wax paper lining the basket. I went home and slept soundly, but Chris claims the vodka-pork product combination gave him nightmares. Small price to pay, I say.)
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Friday, October 3, 2008
doctor visit
Mr. Jansky, I have reviewed your medical history and what I must admit is a baffling array of gastrointestinal symptoms. I see you also have a history of cyclical depression—fascinating!—as well as a possible genetic predisposition to porphyria. How strange. Well anyway, it is my professional opinion that there is a tiny unicorn living in your colon, poking holes in your intestinal lining. This explains a lot, of course! That poor creature is sending negative vibes throughout your entire body, causing your general depression. I mean, who wouldn’t be grumpy at being trapped in someone’s colon? Ha! Plus it explains all of the blood. As soon as it is removed I’m sure that you will start to feel much better! Of course, we’ll have to make sure that we get to it before it reaches its rapid-growth phase into full maturity.
In light of this, I’ve scheduled you for the procedure tomorrow morning. Our regular unicorn-removal specialist is away on vacation in Fiji, but fortunately for you we have a visiting professional to take her place! He’s quite famous, actually, so you may have heard of him. He is Dr. Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and… I’m sorry? Oh, ha ha! You’re right, Mr. Jansky, I guess I don’t mean “Doctor” in the medical sense—more in an academic one, such as a Ph.D or some such. I mean, Rubeus is an instructor at a venerable magical academic institution—I’m sure that he has some sort of degree hanging on the wall of his yard hut! Of course, this hospital is very conscientious about the quality of specialists that it employs, and he is the most qualified expert in magical creatures that we know. I mean, we wouldn’t send just anyone into your colon to retrieve a unicorn!
This brings me to my next point: Dr. Hagrid is what we would call “old school”—that is, he prefers a very hands-on approach. Now, it took some doing, but we finally found a diving suit large enough to accommodate his half-giant physique. (Isn’t eBay amazing?) However, unfortunately our Miniaturization Machine is out of service and the microtechnologist who usually maintains it has disappeared. But don’t worry! We’re still on for tomorrow. We’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way—with the Wedge and a little elbow grease… Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s not as bad as it sounds! It’s more like a shoe-horn, really… Magic, you say? Well, yes, I suppose magic could be employed to shrink him down to the appropriate size, but unfortunately that procedure is not covered by your HMO. However, do not despair! I have checked your policy and it does cover massive amounts of anesthesia and tranquilizers, so you’ll be all set.
7 a.m. tomorrow, then? Fantastic. Have a nice afternoon, Mr. Jansky!
In light of this, I’ve scheduled you for the procedure tomorrow morning. Our regular unicorn-removal specialist is away on vacation in Fiji, but fortunately for you we have a visiting professional to take her place! He’s quite famous, actually, so you may have heard of him. He is Dr. Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and… I’m sorry? Oh, ha ha! You’re right, Mr. Jansky, I guess I don’t mean “Doctor” in the medical sense—more in an academic one, such as a Ph.D or some such. I mean, Rubeus is an instructor at a venerable magical academic institution—I’m sure that he has some sort of degree hanging on the wall of his yard hut! Of course, this hospital is very conscientious about the quality of specialists that it employs, and he is the most qualified expert in magical creatures that we know. I mean, we wouldn’t send just anyone into your colon to retrieve a unicorn!
This brings me to my next point: Dr. Hagrid is what we would call “old school”—that is, he prefers a very hands-on approach. Now, it took some doing, but we finally found a diving suit large enough to accommodate his half-giant physique. (Isn’t eBay amazing?) However, unfortunately our Miniaturization Machine is out of service and the microtechnologist who usually maintains it has disappeared. But don’t worry! We’re still on for tomorrow. We’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way—with the Wedge and a little elbow grease… Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s not as bad as it sounds! It’s more like a shoe-horn, really… Magic, you say? Well, yes, I suppose magic could be employed to shrink him down to the appropriate size, but unfortunately that procedure is not covered by your HMO. However, do not despair! I have checked your policy and it does cover massive amounts of anesthesia and tranquilizers, so you’ll be all set.
7 a.m. tomorrow, then? Fantastic. Have a nice afternoon, Mr. Jansky!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)