My Time Out New York article hit newsstands today! And in case you didn’t recognise that link as corresponding to the article itself, here it is again! And again! No, wait, that wasn’t it. Again!
Interestingly, my blog entry about it–which I posted on Monday but Time Out asked me to remove ten minutes later because the issue wasn’t out yet–was entitled “24-Hour Party People”. So I guess great minds really do think alike. Or at least great minds think of the most obvious title.
I’m totally pleased with the article. Not only did the reporter include the threatening e-mail I wrote him in the first paragraph, but he remembered my singing the Karate Kid song and quoted my hipster-hatin’ right after mentioning that I live in the hipsterest neighborhood in existence. Other than the fact that he calls me a receptionist–I AM THE DIRECTOR OF FIRST IMPRESSIONS!–and will no doubt totally offend my parents with the “avoiding a date with the Lord” bit at the end, I don’t think it could be better.
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I approach Kamran’s apartment building after work and see that one of the revolving doors is being held up by a woman with both hands full of groceries. The back of her is frumpy in a baseball cap and raincoat, and she’s sort of waddling so she can push the door forward a little at a time with an armful of bags. Figuring that I can help her out with my empty hands, I give the door a push, but it turns out to be too much, and it sort of propels her forward unexpectedly into the lobby. I smile apologetically and say, “I’m sorry!”, but she turns around and glares at me. Seeing that she’s listening to her iPod, I say sorry again just in case she missed it, but she lets out this huge huffy sigh and doesn’t change her facial expression. So I naturally say, “Way to be a bitch,” and continue on to the elevator. Just as the door is closing, she steps in front of it, still struggling with her plastic bags, and I reach out like I’m going to push the button to open it, but then I drop my hand to my side and smile as she disappears behind the closed door.
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