Slurry Beta

Infrequent ruminations on nothing.

Monday, August 29, 2005

Never Judge A Book By Its Cover/ It Hurts To Be Called Names

The following is a conversation that took place between me and a woman on the metro last evening. It is 100% true.

Act I
A small fifty something woman dressed fairly nicely with a sun hat on sits down next to me.

Woman: You have beautiful hair.
Me (taking headphones out of my ear): What’s that?
Woman: You have beautiful hair.
Me: Thanks.
Woman: Are you a student?
Me: No, I’m a paralegal.
Woman: Oh, I’m a stocks and securities lawyer for McCovey and Hill downtown. What kind of law do you do?
Me: Military law.
Woman: Oh, we do some of that. My son is a member of the military. Where is your office?
Me: Eastern Market.
Woman: Oh, I used to live down there on A Street and 8th.
Me: Oh yeah, the office is on 8th at E.
Woman (annoyed): Well I live on A street.
Me: Okay.
Woman: That’s down by the naval barracks isn’t it?
Me: Yeah.

Act II
Woman: I locked my keys out of my house.
Me (chuckling): Well, I’m sure you’ll get back in somehow.
Woman (shocked/annoyed): It’s not funny.
Me: No, I’m sure you’ll get back into your house. It happens to us all.
Woman: You know, I don’t appreciate arrogant men.
Me: Okay, I think you misread my approach there. I’m sure you’ll get your keys back.
Woman: I live in Covington, Maryland! (Note: I don’t even think that place exists)
Me: Alright.
Woman (looking at lady in front of me): What are you looking at? (Back to me) Are you in law school?
Me: No.
Woman: I can tell.
Woman (all of a sudden nice again): Do you live in Eastern Market?
Me: Nope. I live in Shaw.
Woman: Oh, okay. What’s your name?
Me: Brian.
Woman: Mines Deliliah Jones (Note: or some shit).
(We shake hands)

Woman: You look familiar. Like someone I know.
Me: Well, I...
Woman: Don’t say everyone says that.
Me: Well, it’s true. Someone always tells me I look like someone they know.
Woman: Well, they don’t have hair like yours.
Me (smiling, but weirded out): That’s true.

Act IV
Woman: I’m about to stop off and ask you for something.
Me: Ummm....
Woman: I really have to use the bathroom.
Me (realizing this woman is really insane and wants to follow me home, use the bathroom, and murder me with a pitchfork): I don’t think I can help you out.
Woman (angry. Very angry): What did you just say?
Me: I mean, do you need help finding a bathroom or something?
Woman (yelling): Listen here, f****t (derogatory term for a gay person)! What are you trying to do, follow me into the women’s bathroom? F**king f****t! You probably like that. Do you use the women's bathroom a lot? F****t!
Me: What the...?
(I get up, exit the metro car, and look behind me to see a small woman following me and yelling explicatives while people stare at me)
Me: Get the f*ck away from me. Don’t follow me.

I take an alternate route home, constantly looking behind me for an small, irate woman in Sunday clothes.



This offensive post is a prime example of the hardships and discrimination that schizophrenics like me are subject to everyday. Your callous and warped view is clearly evident in the blog. Come on, do you really think this ppor lady wanted to inflict harm upon you with a pitchfork? I'm sure all she wanted to do was make a friend to play dressup with and put pretty little pink ribons in your hair. Ironic that you can't even heed the advice offered in your own blog title. For shame, brian, for shame.

True Story

Act I. and 1/2

Last night at a byob Indian Restaurant in the East Village, Gray felt serious hankering to get rid of unpleasant pressure on bladder. So to relieve said bladder, Gray decided to make the arduous journey through the tiny dining room to loo. Gray is quite inebriated at this point. He decides to pee on the toliet seat after much deliberation in the unisex bathroom. After peeing on the said toliet, Gray decides to wash hands. Gray finished washing hands in said basin, and needs to dry hands. He then pulls on paper towel, and said paper towel roll falls into unflushed toilet. Gray has two options...Gray decides latter of two options, leaves the bathroom and blames problem on last customer...good choice gray...seeing as hot girl sitting next to gray was said customer, then other hot friend is next into bathroom, gray decides to drink more.

HA HA HA HA!! Big Bad Polar Beta (because like the blogger-formerly-known-as-slurry will tell you, polar bears are solitary and aggressive) is afraid of a little whacked out old lady he meets on the subway. What kind of a polar bear gets up and runs away from little old ladies? Why didn't you club her with your big ole paws or something? Bite her head off, do SOMETHING!

If only we could have had a recollection of this account if the Beta had been drunk, now that woulda been something. I'm positive it would have gotten much uglier!


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