Wednesday, June 30, 2004
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An Open {half-assed} Apology:
I’m normally not one to apologize. Contrition is a useless characteristic and thus not one I am known to possess {nor feel compelled to acquire}. And in case you are wondering; yes, I feel quite similarly towards guilt. Guilt? Feh, not likely. But being wrong… well, that happens {rarely} and I’m certainly a secure enough person to own up to those moments. Made easier by the fact that such moments are few and far between.
I was wrong.
And so, to the people who participate in my typical day to day experiences, in the best semblance of order I can muster:
*Dog ~ you’re color blind {or so widespread rumor would have me believe} and you can’t see much higher than my shins anyway, so eh… deal with it.
*Marco {the A.M. doorman} ~ good thing you’re from a war torn country, replete with refugees and the displaced, I think it’s safe to assume you’ve seen worse.
*Ali {the bodega guy where I buy the paper every morning} ~ see above.
*Co-workers ~ for your consideration: some of you strut around barefoot or, have 3 day old white gunk stuck in the corners of your mouth or, have never formally introduced your 38C’s to a bra. Therefore, I apologize only to Joe who is quite scared of boobs as it is.
*Commuters on the 1/9 ~ except for the lovely young Mormon boy {Elder Scott as his Latter Day Saints nametag indicated} who jumped up and offered me his seat on the subway {and fuck off, no, I absolutely did not look pregnant ~ damn you guys are cynics!}.
*Commuters on the M86 ~ my sincerest and deepest sympathies to the Christian Bale lookalike {albeit with longer, hotter hair}. You looked so innocent, just sitting there, benignly flipping through The New Yorker. A little esoteric of a choice perhaps but do we quibble with the American Psycho? We think not. Regardless, you have no clue how remorseful I am. Get me your address and I promise to repent my naughty ass off.
And so there we have it; to the people that I meet, when I’m walking down the street {bonus points if you got the Sesame Street reference}, I apologize. Now, say what you will, I know for a fact you all are a nosy lot. You want {nay, need} to know in what capacity I was wrong.
Horrid, lilac t-shirt. Way {waaaaaaaaay} too tight across the chest. Unflattering on several levels.
I assure you the issue has been rectified. The shirt has been banished from the daily rotation. Only to be seen again when gracing the between of my sheets or assisting me in the cleaning of house. If you ever see me wearing it in public, rip it from me.
Uhm… especially if you’re Christian Bale or the M86 version.
9:37 PM
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