oh for the love of...

i HATE doing laundry. you all know this. but i've got an octoberfest tomorrow (i know, it's supposed to be in september, bla bla bla), and need a cute outfit, and everything is dirty. so i left mancat to his own devices for a wine tasting with his friend, and i'm sucking down a glass of burgundy as a consolation prize for having to do laundry on a friday before i head out. i walk in, have enough quarters and singles for the wash, but only a twenty for the dry. i'll deal with that in 25 minutes, so i think...

'hiyeee, jon!'
'hi, suzy! [i have no idea what her name is. if i can be jon, she can be suzy. and she didn't even flinch.] can i get change?'
'oh no! we're closing soon. all i have is tens.'
'but i don't need ten dollars in quarters. only one dollar. that's it.'
'but all i have is tens. for next time!'

do you people know how much nine dollars in quarters weighs?

and while i'm on the subject, for my new york viewers, you can appreciate the difference in cvs and duane reade. they sell similar, and often overlapping things, but not. the. same. selection.

cvs: (and is that matt lauer in their ads and websites? wtf?)
aussie hair insurance. (a MUST HAVE for any wavy haired guy who needs to tame it a bit.)
that cool kind of oral b toothbrush with the rubber gum massage thingies.
orange and apple juice.
sale vitamins at buy-one-get-one. (with your extracare card, of course.)
generic, and wonderful (shh! it's a secret! don't tell the masses) toilet paper.
and most importantly (today), generic bleach. (kids, you all took chemistry. bleach is a simple chemical synthesis reaction. clorox is nothing but a name and fragrance.)

duane reade:
baked lays.
adidas deodorant. (more about this later.)
dial with vitamins or aloe.
aussie shampoo. (skip a step is the only way to go).
salon selectives' hair putty. (damn you suave for men for being discontinued.)

got out of the subway, realized i need both hair insurance and bleach, and guess what? out. of. both. i almost, just almost, had an episode. this after only just moving on from when cvs lost my roll of film from slovenia (like i'll be back THERE anytime soon) last winter that i needed for my portfolio. (i had to write the president and carbon copy the vice presidents - excellent customer service when you hit that level, by the way - to get someone to look into it.) but this is different: this is like them laughing at me, 'hahaha you'll have bad hair and your whites won't be all that white, hahaha, should have planned better, bleach boy!' i swear i even saw a cashier give 'the look'... those of you who have ever worked retail know 'the look,' that, 'yeah, i'm on to you. and even though our mission statement says otherwise, secretly i'm loving that you're not a happy customer. sucker.'

all over laundry day. and p.s., corporate websites with 'about us' or 'our company' links are LOVELY for finding out the top brass of a corporation. just ask me. i'm REALLY good at those letters...

vanderbilt THIS

so, from tonight's party, to reiterate:
* if she is married, and he is alive, she is mrs. his name
* if she is married, and he is dead, she is mrs. his name
* is she is divorced, she is mrs. her name.
* ms. is best never used.

and for the record:
* girls get miss at birth until marriage
* boys get master until 18 (technically.) it becomes mister at that point.

think really hard about the above... fair? unfair? you tell me (and aunt amy...)

my happy campaign: part two

and aNOTHER thing:

4. new york sports. they seem to have a happy campaign of their own. yes yes, i'm not being naive, i'm sure they are hoping their kindness to their members will result in me trying to recruit a coworker or two, or prevent me from moving to crunch or new york health and racquet, bla bla bla, but they put on a good show. in the last few months, i walk in, usually after a brain-numbing morning at the cubefarm, to a whole staff (reception, random trainers, sales people, and some straggling members of the cleaning team, too) screaming my name and clapping: kind of like the greeting they gave norm on cheers. 'hey! tom! alright, you're here! you made it! happy tuesday! go get em, tiger, go go GO! doing the park today? gonna pump some iron- grr! good to see you, we all missed you yesterday, didn't we?' 'oh yeah, we sure did. we all said, hey were is tom!' 'hey and tom, ENJOY YOUR WORKOUT!! [clap clap clap.]'

i'm not kidding. it's bizarre, but ALWAYS brings a smile to my face. after calling all the ladies peanut and princess and lovie, i think it's clear they're not going to get a date out of me, so it's got to be a new nysc happy campaign. and the guys are no better. 'you're getting bigger... you look great! look at you!' or 'you're back from the park early, did you not do the whole loop? running to a meeting, you high powered corporate executive you!' '[omg, you have NO idea how off you are...] no, whole loop and then some, per usual.' 'wow, you must be getting faster, speedy! good job, big guy! [slap on back.]' i know they're not family, but i think i love them.

5. the f train. yes, the myriad of smells in the morning, people handing out a. m. new york AND metro at the same subway entrance, and dollar battery guy can all be a bit much. ('good morning ladies and gentlemen. i am an honest, hardworking business man selling duracell batteries. two for one dollar. two packets for one dollar. honest. businessman. hardworking. batteries.' repeating keywords as if you were to do a keyword search online. and while i'm on the subject, how honest is a guy selling stolen batteries? but i digress.) but then there is the usual cast of characters who are lovely to see: the lady with whom i went to high school who gets on at 34th street, with whom i've been exchanging glances for, oh, about two years now, but with whom i never speak. (i believe she was a cool kid in high school. i wasn't. and that she gets on at 34th leads me to believe that she's probably still a cool kid in the same room at her parents' house.) there is the hotttt guy with the bad wardrobe who gets on at 14th street. there is the middle-aged (i'm being kind) woman with the scruffy hair who really likes perfume and gets on at the same station, and off at the same station, as do i. i love her for one simple reason: that she reads smutty drug store paperbacks every morning and, it would seem, gets hot on the f train before work, judging by the look on her face. i love this city.

my happy campaign

man alive, far too much bitch-and-moaning going on in my life, especially today. so to counteract all the complaining, i'm going to have a stockpile of canned happiness to use whenever i get bitch-bombarded. for starters:

1. raid. i mean, it's new york and inevitable. but this stuff is like an insurance policy, and now they have this fabu straw-like-thing that goes INTO CRACKS IN THE FLOOR. yes yes, 'country scent' is a bit like what i would have expected three mile island to have smelled back in the day, but it is rather lovely in an odd way. people say they'd bring their ipods or books or a lifetime supply of chocolate or something if they were stranded on a deserted island, but i'd bring roach spray: smells good and keeps bugs away, what more do you need?

2. it's raining men (yeah!). i don't mean to sound like the fag i am, but this song rocks. one of my lovely coworkers is schtooping a guy who runs a gap (shh- don't tell her husband ;) recall the promotion they had a few weeks back: try on a pair of jeans, get an itunes card. well, girlfriend hooked me up (hush money?): free music cards for days and days and days. sitting in the cubefarm, earphones planted firmly into ear canal, this song came on and i did my patented cubefarmchairdance, mouthing the words (unless i was actually belting them out) and then i had the epiphany: i. could. own. this. song. so, after putting it on daphne this morning, i've been listening to it non-stop. the words are a bit rudimentary, yes, but hot damn that broad can sing! after 10 hours of lovely sleep and my aforementioned vat of instant coffee and this song on repeat in the subway, i got to work in an insanely fabulous mood this morning... i'm hoping for an encore tomorrow morning.

3. i love my apartment. my apartment rocks. huge front window, sans bars!, four other windows, and a new neighbor who is not only afraid of her shadow, but never speaks. i loved david, rest in peace, but this one is good, too. our super is, how you say, well he's return-phonecall-challenged, but it's ok: in the four years i've lived here, he's had to see my apartment only once, last month. flooded with light, in close proximity to several xxx-stores for last minute lube (should the need arise), and about 13 different bakeries. lube and pizza lustica all night long, for what else can one ask?

more later, hopefully a few each day, but i'm taking the complainers down one by one. 'waah, bigbossman wants me to compile a report.' 'unfortunate, but did i tell you about this new song i downloaded?'

'turning japanese i think i'm turning japanese i really think so....'

(remember that song?)

ok, i'm on strike. all my coworkers and many of my friends are hacking, sneezing, and overall phlegming every which way. to prevent the inevitable for as long as possible, effective immediately, i will not be shaking hands with anyone: i will be bowing, complete with all the rules of japanese etiquette. the more senior a gent is, the lower i bow. the older i get, the more shallow i bow. (and if i want to check out a cute guy's ass, i'll bow and twist my neck.) ok, kidding about the last part, but not kidding about the bowing. i'm doing this. i am NOT getting the bunga junga that is running rampant in my workplace. it may be a rough transition for my coworkers and new acquaintances, but it's necessary. who is in this with me?!?!

dental damns

last week was the biannual dental visit. after a long day at work, i hauled my tired, ran-too-much-at-lunch-and-when-will-i replace-my-shoes-anyway! self on the l.i.r.r., a local to boot. get there and the receptionist informs me that my hygienist for the last 13 years has moved on... 'no mo mo'?' 'no, no mo mo'. her commute was a little long.' 'know the feeling, sweets. do you know how long it took to get me here?' 'long enough that you're ten minutes late for candy.' 'do you find it odd that a hygienist is named candy?' 'wow. never got that one before. get in there.'

'so it shows that [mo'] told you in the last two visits, at the beginning of each, that you are to purchase an electric toothbrush. specifically the [model in this coupon.] is this the coupon you received twice in the last year?'
'you have got to be kidding. she wrote that and made a photocopy of the goddam coupon? did she leave for the funny farm? that is inane. and no i didn't get around to it.'
'well, when do you think you will be getting around to the latest in modern dentistry?'
'you're a tough cookie. i like that about you.'
'you clearly floss. i like that about you.'

a little background: my mother taught my dentist, oh, 40 years ago in elementary school. i don't think i'm allowed to get a new dentist, and i never would, he's awesome. but... mo' did a crap job of removing the stains on my teeth last time, and in the last few years, my dentist has given a kitschy name to his practice, going against my cardinal rule of never going to a doctor who names a practice or advertises it anywhere. so, mo' got the stains facing her six months ago, but not the ones that could be seen from the other vantage point: stuck around another. six. months. and, thus, i returned with mixed emotions. so now that i've a woman who has proven to be every bit as sweet as her name, i'm intrigued.

[getting the ultrasonic plaque remover thingy ready]
'no, wait, what the hell is that. i don't do the cavitron. get that thing the hell away from me! it's evil! who invented that thing! all bets are off!'
'oh yeah, right, i forgot. it's in your chart you don't like this. sorry.'
'oh my oral care purchasing habits are in there, but not my visceral disdain of specific dental tools. i see how it goes.'
'yeah, i'm funny that way. now less lip and more teeth: open up, you're already late.'
...
'i've never seen stains quite like that before. do you smoke?'
'nope. not at all.'
'red wine? coffee?'
[um...]
'red wine sometimes, coffee only a little bit. only instant: brewed seems to make them much worse.'
'well a little wine and coffee should not do this much damage. what kind of toothpaste do you use?'
[a little wine. christ, i about gargle the shit after i put it on my cheerios in the morning. and i'm useless without a herculean vat o' instant in the morning. and let me just take this opportunity to say that i'm oddly brand loyal to the weirdest things: oral b tooth brushes, and colgate toothpaste. don't know why, just have been.]
'colgate whitening. catch the irony.'
'well, my daughter has really, really good luck with crest whitening. word to the wise...'
'i like you.'
'i like you, too.'

so i make my next appointment with the receptionist (who would be sooo cool with whom to have a beer) and this adorable, corn-fed, abercrombie-esque guy in a coat comes out with an elderly patient. we lock eyes. he smiles and walks away, and i about drool (and not over the little porcelain sink with the water swisher thingy.) 'who the hell is THAT?' 'oh... [tee hee hee] he's our new associate.' 'holy shit, make sure he's on in six months, eh? mother of god, you've been holding out on me, girl.' 'yeah, no complaints from anyone so far! (and i hear them all!) he's smooth and gentle and really, really knows what he's doing. but i'm told he's got big hands [wink]' 'i'll bet i could give him a thrill or two in the chair.' '[in a stage whisper] (shh! [laughing] there is an elderly woman behind you!' 'what i mean is that candy's never seen stains like mine before. maybe i could teach dr. teeth a thing or two.' and with that i turned to the elderess behind me and winked and walked out.