March 2011
8 posts
Her: It’s always “too much, too soon.” Me: I know. How about, “just a smidge, in the moment”?
February 2011
13 posts
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The guy at the counter of the fast food place greeted me with the wide-eyed mania of one who has endured a lengthy, fraught ocean voyage and has finally glimpsed solid land. “Isn’t this weather glorious?” he asked.
Even if the forecast is but the cock tease of Spring’s true advent, it is glorious nonetheless.
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Standing on a sidewalk in the West Village Sunday night, finishing a cigarette, a disheveled but exceedingly polite homeless gentleman approached me and asked me if I were a cop. I didn’t respond. He asked again, a little more urgently. Uh, no, I replied. Ok. Because I’m going to take a leak in this corner, he said. And thus he did, while I turned away.
At the end of lunch at a...
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I used to puke frequently, in high school. Not consciously, like for some body dysmorphic reason, I mean I was already ridiculously skinny, too skinny some said, and a bout of pneumonia didn’t help that. (Ah, whither my metabolism?)
It was either due to a nervous stomach, or maybe a touch of lactose intolerance? Or possibly the cigarettes. It tended to happen after drinking bottomless pots...
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There should be a game show called “Delete the Tweet” that is played only in front of the studio audience in your mind (though also in real time on the Web), the object being to scramble to remove, due to an egregious error in judgment, what you thought was a jokey, blithe witticism. How fast can it be done, start the clock. The answer: Not fast enough. Also: no one wins a prize.
