Kitty Power

Ho Ho Ho

It actually took VH1 Classic to bring me some Christmas cheer this year. I stumbled upon the ultrasurreal catchy totally new wave video for Squeeze “Christmas Day.” I need to post that song (ETA: here it is!). It even sounds bizarre.
Sheer laziness kept me in for the Eve this year and I passed the time watching cable when I ran out of net to explore. I watched Who’s That Girl, marvelling at Madonna’s terrible handling of accents even back then and thinking that Griffin Dunne sure had that uptight yuppie facing misadventures market covered in the ’80s, eh? Also, Kicking and Screaming totally not my post-college experience but that’s some of the realest sounding dialogue ever.
Sunday night found me stir-crazy and I jumped at the chance to hang with a random at this place I’d always slightly wondered about. I’m always amazed that no matter how many times I think I know better, I get confused about Greenwich St vs. Greenwich Ave. But the West Village can trip anyone up. We discussed The Sea And Cake and how the place was filled with a lot of wood and the menu was totally unintelligible. I proved myself as usual a random magnet when he went to use the phone as the typical drunken 20-something pseudointellectual fucker sitting next to us at the bar turned to me and started blathering about my companion’s stated dislike of the choices. I shot him a look and remained noncommittal as he insisted “the food is so good though! If you don’t like it, you can come to my house in Killington!” Whatever, Random. His apparent date and I shared some “someone’s had a few too much to drink” looks. On his return, the loudmouth turned to him and said “order the steak. Don’t you know that people are starving in Iraq?”
I laughed at loud and blurted out, “what the fuck are you even talking about? What does one thing have to do with the other?”
“He should order it and eat it because in Iraq there are people less fortunate and starving who wished they had steak.”
“Whatever. That’s so stupid what you just said. I mean there are people in Manhattan that don’t have enough to eat, so why are you even bringing Iraq into this.”
“I know there are people starving in Harlem, but I’m saying I know he’ll like it and I’m willing to pay for it if he doesn’t.”
“Oh…will you invite him up to Vermont also if he doesn’t like it?”
“No, you can come to Vermont, but not him.”
“Okay…you’re ridiculous.”
And that was that. I found myself with a free drink appearing next to me from the bartender and eventually he and the date exited. Continuing on the “hey you, only black girl in the place, I just feel the need to talk to you!” train I always find myself on, an off-duty waitress sat next to us and proceeded to ask our advice on a customer handling faux pas she had made a few nights before. And then talking our ears off about it and her boyfriend going to Thailand to backpack (!) and randomness forever. WTF?
We stepped out into the snow, softly falling on the street. The hardened cynic in me noted that travelling the next day was gonna be a bitch and a half if everything iced over. But at that moment, it was just nice. And I trotted off to the train, hands in pocket.

Comments are closed.