Monday, November 17, 2008

A Text Message That Was Actually Sent, and I That Actually Received


(That wasn't the text, silly, I was creating "dramatic tension.")

Also an excuse for every jackass to become more of a jackass as they don a costume. I met a perfect jackass this Halloween, who made for a perfectly scary technological exchange. I was dressed up as that mid 20th century zeitgeist Valley of the Dolls. Not as a three-dimensional cardboard box book, duh, but a sexy Valley of the Dolls. None of my friends even realized I was dressed in costume and not a single stranger could place the allusion within their limited frame of reference.

Such are the facts of life when you frequent the Maritime Hotel. Oh, there were sexy referees, sexy corrections officers, sexy sanitation workers etc etc, even an Indian fellow dressed up in a lazy man’s costume of Phantom of the Opera. When he asked me to guess what he was, and I guessed correctly because I live in the world, he gasped, dumbfounded with a “WOW you’re cultured!” He got almost as much satisfaction out of correct answer as I did telling philistines (or individuals who do not romanticize prescription pill addiction) what my costume was, condescendingly and patronizingly- “It’s a book.” Anyway, one of these philistines was an appropriately foreign or bridge and tunnel guy dressed up as a cop. A sexy cop. Like a stripper cop. We chatted for a few minutes, in which he managed to do the following:

1. Tell me that he would have to arrest me with his “naughty” handcuffs
2. Send me into an existential crisis forcing me to reconsider my sexuality and my station in life.

A few days later, this persistent faux law enforcement official found me on Facebook. I am going to start a Facebook group called “Facebook Makes Me Lonely.” Anyway, he suggested drinks, I’m broke and miserable, so I sent him my number per his request, in the blind hope that maybe there was a kind, caring, emotionally and financially stable man behind the badge. The next day, this is the text message I received… direct quotes ensue:

“Hey girl ; ). Going to be representing at any more beauty pageants this weekend?

Far from it, my optimistic friend, far from it. I responded:
“Perhaps…. Will you be making more arrests?”

“I have no choice but to take u into custody. The charge: under arrest for dressing too scandalously. ; )”

And now I wish I was dead. Or like Susie Essman said in her standup routine, “There was a long period in my life where I prayed for lesbianism to hit me.” I am turning into a fucked up urban Cathy cartoon where prescription sleeping pills replace chocolate, the Hills- as- companion replaces cats- as- companion, and “Make Me Gay” replaces “Thank God It’s Friday.”