-This morning on the subway, I started reading the Financial Times over a random co-ed's shoulder. I thought this would be the moment where Random Co-Ed would catch my eye and say, "Here, lets share the paper", and then I would have insta-boyfriend. This did not happen, and instead he turned around, shot me a nasty look, and then folded the paper so that I would no longer be able to read it.
-Who are these women with extra large engagement rings, who ride the subway in sweats?? I have realized that even if, by some off-chance, someone DOES ask me to marry them, I think I will never quit my job. When I took 3 days off to study for the LSAT, circa hour 8, I almost applied for a part time job at pinkberry to kill some time for the rest of my 3 day vacation.
-Who are these people who lean against the pole during rush hour traffic??? I hate these people so much. I've tried fighting back any way I can, but usually my "fighting back" ends up meaning that my hand is crushed behind someones back, and i look like i'm inappropriately touching a stranger.
-Sometimes when I ride the subway, I like to pump the Eric Prydz, "Call on Me", on the IPod, and pretend like i'm in Europe. But then some a-hole in an a-rod jersey pushes me out of the way, I drop my purse and everything falls out, people kick it around and then a mariachi band tramples me.
Read more
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Monday, October 15, 2007
Random Thoughts
- I've started to watch way too much tv, so now, in lieu of television, I am going to try to try and read 2 hours a night. I will start tonight...right after I watch this ep of Gossip Girl;
- Remember when I used to say, "If I meet a guy who had read Daisy Miller, and would understand a Daisy Miller reference/make a daisy miller reference, I will run off with him immediately"? I thought about reinstating that policy, but then I realized that most of the guys who approach me don't actually know how to read. Sadness;
-I will probably be getting my LSAT scores later this week...so if you see me sitting in the fountain at Wash Sq. Park eating from a take-out container of Saag Panir and gently sobbing, you'll know why;
-It looks like the advertisers for Viagra are getting really bold. I just an ad where the song, "Viva Las Vegas", had been changed to "Viva Viagra". Remember when these ads were like older men in shadowed light whispering, "i've got a secret.."???
-My 14 yr old faux little sister recently wrote a song entitled, "Rejection", about her breakup with the 8th grade class stud. She was very upset about this situation, so I put it in perspective. I told her, "Hey Leelee, you might be writing songs about your painful breakup with the class stud, but when I was your age, my song lyrics were like, "why did you steal my beanie babies, burn them and video tape it?". She shut up. Read more
- Remember when I used to say, "If I meet a guy who had read Daisy Miller, and would understand a Daisy Miller reference/make a daisy miller reference, I will run off with him immediately"? I thought about reinstating that policy, but then I realized that most of the guys who approach me don't actually know how to read. Sadness;
-I will probably be getting my LSAT scores later this week...so if you see me sitting in the fountain at Wash Sq. Park eating from a take-out container of Saag Panir and gently sobbing, you'll know why;
-It looks like the advertisers for Viagra are getting really bold. I just an ad where the song, "Viva Las Vegas", had been changed to "Viva Viagra". Remember when these ads were like older men in shadowed light whispering, "i've got a secret.."???
-My 14 yr old faux little sister recently wrote a song entitled, "Rejection", about her breakup with the 8th grade class stud. She was very upset about this situation, so I put it in perspective. I told her, "Hey Leelee, you might be writing songs about your painful breakup with the class stud, but when I was your age, my song lyrics were like, "why did you steal my beanie babies, burn them and video tape it?". She shut up. Read more
Begging on the Streets
As my two readers may not be aware....I recently found myself in what could best be described as, "a sticky financial situation". I had...how do I put it delicately...no money. I had heard my whole life, "if you're rich in spirit, and you have a roof over your head...you can never be poor". Whoever told me that was a liar. Having 0 money is terrible. Paying for subway rides with pennies and nickels is terrible. Becoming a dollar menunaire at Mickey D's is terrible. But, like the same person who lied about the rich in spirit BS told me, every cloud has a silver lining. My poverty allowed me to empathize for beggars. Before the week of poverty, I had thought, "HEY GET A JOB. I DID", everytime someone can on my subway train and started, "i'm sorry to bother you..." But during the week of poverty, everytime i saw a beggar, i would tell them, "i hear you, man....I just paid for this ride with some pence from the UK!" . HOWEVER, all of that having been said, I'd like to take some time to give any of my homeless beggar readers out there a few tips:
Keep it nice
I can't tell you how many times i've seen beggars lash out when things don't go their way. One time I was walking home, and there was some woman on the street begging who started out so nice and was like "sweetie..i need money..." -- I did the obligatory "look down and pretend you didn't hear" move. Obiviously Woman on the Street didn't like this AT ALL, and she responded with, "well you look like you've never had to go hungry for too long". Hey, you just called me sweetie -- now you're telling me i look like i've never skipped a meal?? Any shot you had at my turning around and giving you some spare change has flown out the window. Yesterday, on the subway, one particularly aggressive beggar yelled, "SLUT", to this awkward librarian type with glasses who didn't look up from her book to give him money. I, of course, didn't make matters any better b/c even after he got off the train, i turned to the entire train and asked, "wait, did he just call that girl a slut??" Awkward Librarian looked like she wanted to die.
Show some creativity
There are some homeless people who really show some creativity -- they sing, they tap bricks on the ground to make noise, they breakdance, they hum really loudl while rocking back and forth. I like to see this, and I am definitely more inclined to give you money if you, in whatever way you can, "worked for it".
Look the Part
I sometimes see beggars with nicer nikes than I have. This makes me particularly livid, as, right now, I have 2 pairs of shoes I continue to wear with holes in them. Now, I'm not saying I *should* be walking around with hole-y shoes, but I don't think beggars should be wearing un hole-y shoes when they are asking me (girl who is wearing shoes w/holes) for money. Read more
Keep it nice
I can't tell you how many times i've seen beggars lash out when things don't go their way. One time I was walking home, and there was some woman on the street begging who started out so nice and was like "sweetie..i need money..." -- I did the obligatory "look down and pretend you didn't hear" move. Obiviously Woman on the Street didn't like this AT ALL, and she responded with, "well you look like you've never had to go hungry for too long". Hey, you just called me sweetie -- now you're telling me i look like i've never skipped a meal?? Any shot you had at my turning around and giving you some spare change has flown out the window. Yesterday, on the subway, one particularly aggressive beggar yelled, "SLUT", to this awkward librarian type with glasses who didn't look up from her book to give him money. I, of course, didn't make matters any better b/c even after he got off the train, i turned to the entire train and asked, "wait, did he just call that girl a slut??" Awkward Librarian looked like she wanted to die.
Show some creativity
There are some homeless people who really show some creativity -- they sing, they tap bricks on the ground to make noise, they breakdance, they hum really loudl while rocking back and forth. I like to see this, and I am definitely more inclined to give you money if you, in whatever way you can, "worked for it".
Look the Part
I sometimes see beggars with nicer nikes than I have. This makes me particularly livid, as, right now, I have 2 pairs of shoes I continue to wear with holes in them. Now, I'm not saying I *should* be walking around with hole-y shoes, but I don't think beggars should be wearing un hole-y shoes when they are asking me (girl who is wearing shoes w/holes) for money. Read more
Saturday, October 06, 2007
I HATE HIPSTERS
I think the title says it all, but I want to reiterate: I HATE HIPSTERS.
Scene: Salon-themed hipster bar next to a "Nathan's Original Hot Dogs".
I can't even begin to describe the parade of individuals I witnessed. I, of course, roll in wearing the ubiquitous "i'mgoingoutandgoingtohaveawildnight!!" black dress. Upon entering the bar, I immediately realize that perhaps I should have done one of several things: a) not blown dry my hair..instead, let my hair embrace its more lion-mane quality, b) worn my jumper, and perhaps, a skull & bone button up shirt, c) gotten a modified bob, and worn my glasses or d) shaved my head, and come in with overalls, stiletto heels and a page-boy cap. To say I looked out of place was probably an understatement.
To me, hipster used to mean "counter-culture". In fact, back home in New Orleans I used to consider myself a hipster because I wasn't a debutante, I wore glasses, I wrote my own plays as a child, and on weekends I used to work the front desk at my parents guest house. All of these things were counter to the normal culture of children and teenagers in New Orleans, so therefore, I was a hipster. Once I moved to New York, I realized, my definition of hipster was vastly different from the one I had conceived of since childhood. In New York, all the hipsters were counter-culture in the same exact way: guys who dress like British School Boys, too much eye-liner, tight t-shirts and vests -- girls who wear skull outfits, suspenders, adidas soccer cleats and one earring. I can't understand how these people don't realize the hipocracy of their existence. Oooohhh..you wear vests..let me tell you something: if everyone wears vests just like you, you are as mainstream as the girls with polos and longchamps that you probably hate on unmercilessly.
I want to re-define the term hipster. I think hipsters are people who work obscene hours, live in crackdens, just want to survive, and just do things that make them happy, even if that includes just staying in and reading instead of going to a bar that masquerades itself as a "former massage spa" or "former salon" . To me, THESE people are the true hipsters. Show me a slightly out-of shape accountant who is picking up his take out thai food to go home and watch the discovery channel on a thurs night, and I will show you a hipster.
I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this entry....if I don't end it now, I may start going on a rant about my normal topics of rage: florida, my job, the new york city dating scene, and homeless people who proposition me.
And with that, I leave you. Read more
Scene: Salon-themed hipster bar next to a "Nathan's Original Hot Dogs".
I can't even begin to describe the parade of individuals I witnessed. I, of course, roll in wearing the ubiquitous "i'mgoingoutandgoingtohaveawildnight!!" black dress. Upon entering the bar, I immediately realize that perhaps I should have done one of several things: a) not blown dry my hair..instead, let my hair embrace its more lion-mane quality, b) worn my jumper, and perhaps, a skull & bone button up shirt, c) gotten a modified bob, and worn my glasses or d) shaved my head, and come in with overalls, stiletto heels and a page-boy cap. To say I looked out of place was probably an understatement.
To me, hipster used to mean "counter-culture". In fact, back home in New Orleans I used to consider myself a hipster because I wasn't a debutante, I wore glasses, I wrote my own plays as a child, and on weekends I used to work the front desk at my parents guest house. All of these things were counter to the normal culture of children and teenagers in New Orleans, so therefore, I was a hipster. Once I moved to New York, I realized, my definition of hipster was vastly different from the one I had conceived of since childhood. In New York, all the hipsters were counter-culture in the same exact way: guys who dress like British School Boys, too much eye-liner, tight t-shirts and vests -- girls who wear skull outfits, suspenders, adidas soccer cleats and one earring. I can't understand how these people don't realize the hipocracy of their existence. Oooohhh..you wear vests..let me tell you something: if everyone wears vests just like you, you are as mainstream as the girls with polos and longchamps that you probably hate on unmercilessly.
I want to re-define the term hipster. I think hipsters are people who work obscene hours, live in crackdens, just want to survive, and just do things that make them happy, even if that includes just staying in and reading instead of going to a bar that masquerades itself as a "former massage spa" or "former salon" . To me, THESE people are the true hipsters. Show me a slightly out-of shape accountant who is picking up his take out thai food to go home and watch the discovery channel on a thurs night, and I will show you a hipster.
I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this entry....if I don't end it now, I may start going on a rant about my normal topics of rage: florida, my job, the new york city dating scene, and homeless people who proposition me.
And with that, I leave you. Read more
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
I'm out of ideas
But sometimes when I am bored, I re-read the emails my parents send me. I will call this a "Best Of" Dennis and Joanne emails. I also find it better, when reading emails from my father, to imagine Christopher Walken reading them aloud. Note: I have inserted comments where appropriate
"Layne
for some reason watching the movie about "Miriam" (L: What my father meant here was the Devil Wears Prada -- we all know that the main character's name is actually named "Miranda", but I think that was lost in translation) and hearing you talk of
your experiences at work and in New York---made me laugh about how different we are down here and what the speed of life must be in NY.. I think they would hospitalize me for some type of "lethargy" that is un-explainable. in the diagnostic manual.
I think that once we do visit you---or you visit us there will be such a "cultural lag" that we will have to work on communicative styles. (as if we don't have to already) hot down here-----muggy-----Gatlinburg --very cool in the mountains Dollywood -- kind of cute and friendly---sort of like Deliverance----duh dun a dun dunt don (L: I think this is meant to be the banjo theme song -- oh, and as an aside, one particularly low Christmas Evening, my family watched Deliverance together)-- not exactly the banjo playing --but you get the point--love ya Dad"
Let's contrast this email style with the sort of email from my mother:
"DO YOU NEED TO GET YOUR HAIR DONE? HAVE YOU BEEN GOING TO CHURCH? YOUR FATHER HAS STARTED WRITING FICTION, HE WROTE SOME SORT OF POEM ABOUT THE TICK-TOCK OF DEATH, SO I SLEPT IN YOUR ROOM LAST NIGHT. I BAKED A CAKE AND MADE LEMONADE, AND NO ONE CLEANED THE DISHES. GO FIGURE. XOXO MOM" Read more
"Layne
for some reason watching the movie about "Miriam" (L: What my father meant here was the Devil Wears Prada -- we all know that the main character's name is actually named "Miranda", but I think that was lost in translation) and hearing you talk of
your experiences at work and in New York---made me laugh about how different we are down here and what the speed of life must be in NY.. I think they would hospitalize me for some type of "lethargy" that is un-explainable. in the diagnostic manual.
I think that once we do visit you---or you visit us there will be such a "cultural lag" that we will have to work on communicative styles. (as if we don't have to already) hot down here-----muggy-----Gatlinburg --very cool in the mountains Dollywood -- kind of cute and friendly---sort of like Deliverance----duh dun a dun dunt don (L: I think this is meant to be the banjo theme song -- oh, and as an aside, one particularly low Christmas Evening, my family watched Deliverance together)-- not exactly the banjo playing --but you get the point--love ya Dad"
Let's contrast this email style with the sort of email from my mother:
"DO YOU NEED TO GET YOUR HAIR DONE? HAVE YOU BEEN GOING TO CHURCH? YOUR FATHER HAS STARTED WRITING FICTION, HE WROTE SOME SORT OF POEM ABOUT THE TICK-TOCK OF DEATH, SO I SLEPT IN YOUR ROOM LAST NIGHT. I BAKED A CAKE AND MADE LEMONADE, AND NO ONE CLEANED THE DISHES. GO FIGURE. XOXO MOM" Read more
Sunday, September 23, 2007
"You shouldn't quit your day job"
Today, I discuss a particular breed of New York Man: The "Entrepreneur".
Last night at "Ubiquitous Ibanker meets B&T Bar X", I was chatting with one of my friends, when all of the sudden I notice a gentleman caller has sidled up next to my chair. I go through my mental checklist: Brown Hair? Check. Taller than me? Check. Employed? Well, if he's at a bar, and purchasing his own beverages, he must have *some* money, so, for all intents and purposes that's a check. That is when I spot it. Gentleman Caller is wearing a black graphic tee with a:
You Got it. He was wearing a graphic tee with a Koala bear on it. It was like the entire bar went silent with a screech upon my noticing this tee shirt. I had a visceral reaction, and I screamed, "WHAT ARE YOU WEARING??????" Joe Gentleman Caller breaks out in a wide smile, and says, "You like it?? It's from my new graphic t-shirt design company!" I stood there silent with a horrifyed look on my face for a couple of minutes. I remembered that this is New York, and I am a single 23 yr old living in a crackden in spanish harlem -- I probably shouldn't be looking a gift horse in the mouth. So, I decide I shall continue talking to Koala Joe. I asked him what the name of his company was -- he tells me, "It's Rare Unlimited". I continue to have a horrified look on my face -- I figured that if you're going to have a company that sells graphic tees of cuddly animals, the name was going to be at least a tad bit ironic -- something like "Ghostface Gangsta Killaz Bearz" or something. Koala Joe obviously picked up on my skepticism and continued to smile, "you see, it's like an oxymoron..like, oxymorons are two words that are sort of different, so like how can something be rare, but also unlimited, you know?" As he was telling me this, I thought to myself, "thank you, Koala Joe, for telling me what an oxymoron is -- I only studied English Literature, and Literature of the British Empire in college..I must have just *missed* the lesson on oxymorons", but then i remembered: single, 23, crackden, SpaHa -- so I told him, "That's witty", and I turned around and chugged the rest of my drink.
At this point, I am slightly intoxicated, so I figure, maybe I can turn these lemons to lemonade. "Hey Koala Bear" I yell, "What is your advertisement strategy?" Another look of pleased legitimacy. He comes close to me, as if he is about to impart the secret to business..."Myspace. And the best part? It's free." (Shots appear at the table, and Layne takes one), "KOALA BEAR", i slur, "I think your tshirt would be better with a smaller bear, perhaps in the corner, perhaps like a polo?" Koala Joe's look of legitimacy turns to anger. "Why wouldn't someone buy a tshirt w/a large Koala bear on it -- it's cute, its cuddly, it attracts the ladies, it's great." I'm Silent. "Also, I'm not trying to be polo...this shirt is golden." I continue to be silent whilst sipping my drink. Finally Koala Joe gets so worked up that he tells me, "Honey, you shouldn't quit your day job." and he walked away.
Another successful evening out in New York. Read more
Last night at "Ubiquitous Ibanker meets B&T Bar X", I was chatting with one of my friends, when all of the sudden I notice a gentleman caller has sidled up next to my chair. I go through my mental checklist: Brown Hair? Check. Taller than me? Check. Employed? Well, if he's at a bar, and purchasing his own beverages, he must have *some* money, so, for all intents and purposes that's a check. That is when I spot it. Gentleman Caller is wearing a black graphic tee with a:
You Got it. He was wearing a graphic tee with a Koala bear on it. It was like the entire bar went silent with a screech upon my noticing this tee shirt. I had a visceral reaction, and I screamed, "WHAT ARE YOU WEARING??????" Joe Gentleman Caller breaks out in a wide smile, and says, "You like it?? It's from my new graphic t-shirt design company!" I stood there silent with a horrifyed look on my face for a couple of minutes. I remembered that this is New York, and I am a single 23 yr old living in a crackden in spanish harlem -- I probably shouldn't be looking a gift horse in the mouth. So, I decide I shall continue talking to Koala Joe. I asked him what the name of his company was -- he tells me, "It's Rare Unlimited". I continue to have a horrified look on my face -- I figured that if you're going to have a company that sells graphic tees of cuddly animals, the name was going to be at least a tad bit ironic -- something like "Ghostface Gangsta Killaz Bearz" or something. Koala Joe obviously picked up on my skepticism and continued to smile, "you see, it's like an oxymoron..like, oxymorons are two words that are sort of different, so like how can something be rare, but also unlimited, you know?" As he was telling me this, I thought to myself, "thank you, Koala Joe, for telling me what an oxymoron is -- I only studied English Literature, and Literature of the British Empire in college..I must have just *missed* the lesson on oxymorons", but then i remembered: single, 23, crackden, SpaHa -- so I told him, "That's witty", and I turned around and chugged the rest of my drink.
At this point, I am slightly intoxicated, so I figure, maybe I can turn these lemons to lemonade. "Hey Koala Bear" I yell, "What is your advertisement strategy?" Another look of pleased legitimacy. He comes close to me, as if he is about to impart the secret to business..."Myspace. And the best part? It's free." (Shots appear at the table, and Layne takes one), "KOALA BEAR", i slur, "I think your tshirt would be better with a smaller bear, perhaps in the corner, perhaps like a polo?" Koala Joe's look of legitimacy turns to anger. "Why wouldn't someone buy a tshirt w/a large Koala bear on it -- it's cute, its cuddly, it attracts the ladies, it's great." I'm Silent. "Also, I'm not trying to be polo...this shirt is golden." I continue to be silent whilst sipping my drink. Finally Koala Joe gets so worked up that he tells me, "Honey, you shouldn't quit your day job." and he walked away.
Another successful evening out in New York. Read more
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Another Night Out
C'est 3am, and I am back from another unfulfilling night in the NYCDS (new york city dating scene). I did, however, meet the love of my life. He was a cab driver, he was nice to me, and he told me he thought I wasn't very drunk. In New York, this equates to love at first sight. In college/abroad, love at first sight meant a tall geeky awkward guy with brown hair and glasses....but sometimes, I suppose, you have to manage expectations. So, in short, if anyone has Nadim the cab driver's phone number, please let me know.
In other news, I went to go get my post-drinking slice of cheese pizza, and the man said, "everytime you come here, you get the same thing, so many times, by yourself..." I yelled something about living far uptown, in a studio...but i've decided I will never be going to Zesty Pizza again. Read more
In other news, I went to go get my post-drinking slice of cheese pizza, and the man said, "everytime you come here, you get the same thing, so many times, by yourself..." I yelled something about living far uptown, in a studio...but i've decided I will never be going to Zesty Pizza again. Read more
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Just another day at the ol' office
*Names have been changed to protect the identity of catgirl*
Cat Girl: what is the perfume that you're wearing
Cat Girl: what, I can't ask
Lil Layne: its from the 99 cent rack at duane reade
Cat Girl: really
Cat Girl: do u need help with anything
Cat Girl: hello layne
Cat Girl: what are u working on
Cat Girl: hey do u need help]
Cat Girl: meow
Cat Girl: frisky
Cat Girl: meoooooooooow Read more
Cat Girl: what is the perfume that you're wearing
Cat Girl: what, I can't ask
Lil Layne: its from the 99 cent rack at duane reade
Cat Girl: really
Cat Girl: do u need help with anything
Cat Girl: hello layne
Cat Girl: what are u working on
Cat Girl: hey do u need help]
Cat Girl: meow
Cat Girl: frisky
Cat Girl: meoooooooooow Read more
Sunday, September 09, 2007
"You have kind eyes..."
The above phrase was recently said to me by a schizophrenic man who apparently wished to court me. I bring this up as introduction to my newest crisis of identity: What is it about me that says to the weak, the awkward, the mentally ill, the homeless and the unemployed, "I am approachable, and if you wink at me whilst simultaneously spitting on the ground, or scratching yourself, I am going to say, 'Bring it, you tiger'." I am really at a loss.
This phenomenon did not start upon my relocation to New York. I first noticed my ability to attract a....how do you say...unsavory clientele when I lived in Edinburgh. I specifically remembering one homeless man asking me for my phone number as I was walking back from a bar. I, in a moment of sheer cheekiness, gave it to him to see if he, the homeless man begging on the street, was going to whip out his cell phone to program it in (he did). I was also morbidly curious to see where said homeless beggar was going to take his lady out on the town, but, unfortunately for all, I guess at some point the homeless man begging on the streets had second thoughts about ME, the girl WITH a home, money, and employment opportunities, and he never called. It was a bit of an ego crushing moment.
Last fall, I had a similar experience. I was standing on some East Village street corner trying to inebriatedly hail a cab. I had been standing there for a good 20 minutes with my hand up (no cabs stopping) when I heard a human voice yelling, "BEEP BEEP". As I turned, I noticed I had hailed SOMETHING. Down the street came Joe Homeless Man, pushing a grocery cart. I started contemplating accepting a ride in his KMart Chariot, just to see if Joe Homeless Man was going to push me 90 or so blocks uptown. I then remembered that the last time I engaged a homeless beggar due to morbid curiosity, I ended up alone on a Sat. Night waiting for a phone call, sans date, so I opted against it. I told the man, "I would, normally, it is just that it is a bit chilly out, and I already have a cold, but, do have a good night." Joe Homeless Man then told me, "that's a shame, because i'd sure like to take you home." ("What home", I asked myself, but that is neither here nor there.)
Here's my rhetorical question that I don't expect you, my 2 readers, to actually answer: If it were Paris Hilton, rather than Layne Hilton, who had been in those situations --- would the homeless people have propositioned them? I don't think so.
I think my new experiment is going to be, when faced with a crazy homeless person who wants to date me, can I somehow out-crazy them so they are like "oh jesus...this one's more than I bargained for", and then back away from me. I think if I successfully do this like 2 or three times, I will be branded, and, perhaps, left alone. I mean, I have enough examples of crazy in my life (see below), that I think I could pull it off. I'l llet you, the 2 readers, know how it goes. Read more
This phenomenon did not start upon my relocation to New York. I first noticed my ability to attract a....how do you say...unsavory clientele when I lived in Edinburgh. I specifically remembering one homeless man asking me for my phone number as I was walking back from a bar. I, in a moment of sheer cheekiness, gave it to him to see if he, the homeless man begging on the street, was going to whip out his cell phone to program it in (he did). I was also morbidly curious to see where said homeless beggar was going to take his lady out on the town, but, unfortunately for all, I guess at some point the homeless man begging on the streets had second thoughts about ME, the girl WITH a home, money, and employment opportunities, and he never called. It was a bit of an ego crushing moment.
Last fall, I had a similar experience. I was standing on some East Village street corner trying to inebriatedly hail a cab. I had been standing there for a good 20 minutes with my hand up (no cabs stopping) when I heard a human voice yelling, "BEEP BEEP". As I turned, I noticed I had hailed SOMETHING. Down the street came Joe Homeless Man, pushing a grocery cart. I started contemplating accepting a ride in his KMart Chariot, just to see if Joe Homeless Man was going to push me 90 or so blocks uptown. I then remembered that the last time I engaged a homeless beggar due to morbid curiosity, I ended up alone on a Sat. Night waiting for a phone call, sans date, so I opted against it. I told the man, "I would, normally, it is just that it is a bit chilly out, and I already have a cold, but, do have a good night." Joe Homeless Man then told me, "that's a shame, because i'd sure like to take you home." ("What home", I asked myself, but that is neither here nor there.)
Here's my rhetorical question that I don't expect you, my 2 readers, to actually answer: If it were Paris Hilton, rather than Layne Hilton, who had been in those situations --- would the homeless people have propositioned them? I don't think so.
I think my new experiment is going to be, when faced with a crazy homeless person who wants to date me, can I somehow out-crazy them so they are like "oh jesus...this one's more than I bargained for", and then back away from me. I think if I successfully do this like 2 or three times, I will be branded, and, perhaps, left alone. I mean, I have enough examples of crazy in my life (see below), that I think I could pull it off. I'l llet you, the 2 readers, know how it goes. Read more
Thursday, September 06, 2007
LSAT Logical Reasoning Question
The above provides the strongest support for which of the following conclusions:
(A) - Sometimes people leave somewhat creepy presents at others' desks just to say "Hello".
(B) - Speaking generally, only children are not socially well adjusted.
(C) - Mount Holyoke wasn't the only place with freakshows.
(D) - Something about me attracts those referenced in (c).
(E) - Layne's Cat says "Meow!".
I had to post it for those who didn't believe me.
Read more
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