notes from a city.

so i'm in the big bad city this weekend visiting friends. it's good to get away from the mundaneness and annoyance of living in a town like x. and, hey, you think the city would provide all sorts of awesome and sophisticated interludes.

or not.

overheard:

While waiting for Agatha to get off work, I settled into a table at a local corporate coffee chain. One employee was discussing with her co-workers about the previous evening’s episode of Project Runway. “That blonde girl’s dress? It was the most worst dress ever.”

Another employee, after a man with an Eastern European accent, orders an iced coffee. “Here’s your water.”
Man: “I did not order water.”
Girl: “Are you sure?”
Man: “Yes. I’m sure. I order iced coffee.”
Girl: “Not water?”
Man: “No.”
Silence.
Girl: “Oh, well, I thought you said iced water.”
Man: “No. Iced coffee.” Pause. “Are you going to make me one?”
Girl: “An iced coffee?”
Man: “Yes. Please.”


And finally, some advice to you guys who want to hang out in corporate coffee houses. Don’t wear baggy shorts, your sunglasses on top of your head, and Velcro-strapped sandals and sit with your legs spread wide open. Chances are you are middle-aged and unattractive. And chances are you’re flashing your junk to poor innocents who are there to get some work done, not lose their lunch. Flash your lady friend in the ill-fitting Capri pants. She’s likely familiar with your junk. She likely has that dour look on her face because not only is she familiar with your junk, but she’s resigned herself to be stuck with your junk for the rest of her miserable life. Haven’t you harmed enough people for one millennium?