Overheard in a cab

Pride week in DC had a lot of "overheard" moments, as one can imagine. I saw people in their actual underwear, walking in front of the capital. But one of my favorite interactions took place in a cab as I was leaving the Pride Parade in Dupont Circle.

Cab Driver: "I wonder why traffic is so bad... what's going on there?"
Me: "Pride Parade! It was a blast."
CD: "Interesting. What kind of parade?"
Me: "It was... a really colorful, really glittery parade."
CD: "What was it like?"
Me: "Proud... lots of dancing and techno."
CD: "Hm... I'm proud..."

Excellent moment of confusion.

Makin it rain

The following exchange took place in a work meeting. Too frequently in the non-profit industry, people throw around colloquialisms because they think it makes them sound unique and open minded and progressive, when actually it just sounds like they read an article on holistic, sustainable farming and wanted to repeat those words. And since those of us forced to listen to that are usually some breed or degree of social worker (and therefore frequent offenders ourselves), we never call them out on it because we, too, are trying to be accepting of all ideas and opinions. This happened while trying to establish the purpose of a particular group…

Guy: “I really that this exists to bring us all together. Maybe our mission is based on the fact that we’re all coming together each month.”
Lady: rolls eyes… “We could be coming together to play bridge every month.” Thanks, lady… I didn’t have to say it.

Let’s change scenery a little. This gem was uttered by my friend R., to justify a romantic encounter with a person she has no attraction to or interest in: “I just like to make people happy. Is that so wrong?” Yes, R. That is wrong- even when it feels so right. I’m just glad I get to share this story with the Internet.

How about this seen in my text inbox... this is from A, who just returned to America from an extended stay overseas: “Question. I know our economy has really gone downhill. Is it normal for me to have paid $6 for a snacksized bag of chips and a Snapple? This shit would be 2 euro, is all I’m saying. I actually did a double take and questioned it. Then took out the monopoly money that is USD and made it rain.”

Finally, let’s end with an oldie but a goodie. Well, hell, it just happened this morning, but it felt familiar to this blog, so here we go. This was a crazed, probably high woman walking threateningly towards an older white haired man stretching out post-run at 5:30 AM. Woman: “You’re probably a goddamn congressman!” Sadly, I was the only one who thought it was funny. Maybe you will too. In conclusion, TGIF, Happy Pride Weekend, DC, and let’s all go look heat stroke in the eye.

Now that's love...

Lady on the D6, on the phone: "Before I met you, I wasn't nothing but a regular bitch on the corner." Now there's some good old fashioned Northeast-style self esteem. Nothing says love quite that way.

Dude at a bus stop watches me get on my bike following a group run, and comments: "You're ridin a bike after running? Calves ain't big enough!"

Escalefting.

One teenage-white girl-tourist to a group of others on the escalator at metro center:
"Guys, we're escalefting!"
TWGT II: "Really? Is that what it's called?"
TWGT I: "Yea, that's what they call it!"

I never really thought I'd hear that used in conversation, but I was glad at least one person in that group was aware of their culturally insensitive behavior towards DC residents and demanded that the others take corrective action. I guess those ridiculous signs really did serve a purpose!!

I wish dudes used these pick up lines on me..

Overheard in Dupont Circle, random man to a woman (relationship unknown): "C'mon, what do you say we go home, eat some chocolate, and make a baby?!" The Big Hunt is an awesome bar to pick randos up. Honestly.. I gave up all sweets for lent. With my chocolate addiction and current withdrawals, that line may have worked on me. Maybe. Instead, I'm stuck with "You know you totally want to make out with me." Yea, thanks, Little Miss Whiskey's. You always send me these gems.

Seen on the metro in Madrid...

A snippet from my little sister:

A non-Spanish couple, whispering sweet nothings into each others' ears, but nothing I could understand. I knew it was romance when she took an oil blotting sheet out of her bag and began to dab the grease from his nose, showing him the sheet afterwards.

They then saw a child going for an open seat, and raced said child. They won, so the kid's father had to stand. But at least they had their seat gosh darnit.

In the next five minutes, she discovered her sweety's wallet on the floor of the metro and proceeded to pick it up, wave it around, and yell at him. Just in case you weren't already sure they'd be good to rob. Sigh. Foreigners.

God is not a Ginger.

This morning's 8:55 D6 didn't come. It was thrilling, waiting for the bus in the pouring rain, on a day that should, in all fairness, result in life being temporarily canceled in lieu of whiskey and poetry and Chopin. It was more than thrilling watching the 8:55 bus roll by at 9:10 with a "No Service" banner across the front, mocking the crowd of sullen faces under umbrellas. Finally, at 9:23, I dragged my soggy boots and stupidly suede bag onto the bus, scoring a window seat by my hygienically inoffensive roommate (don't worry, K- you have lots of other good qualities, too). It read like a typical D6- ties and sensible pumps and open umbrellas and environmentally responsible thermoses and a spattering of Ed Hardy. I was pleasantly surprised to hear a "Hello everyone, how's everybody doin this beautiful day?!" in a tone I was certain belonged to Sandra "Queen" Noble, former candidate for the US House of Representatives (don't know her? Check it out here):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YHikkT44CtQ&tracker=False.

Seriously, it is easily the best youtube video I've ever seen. Sadly, when I saw her face, it was not the Queen herself, just your average D6 bus buddy. Fortunately, her morning monologue went something like this:

"Hey bus driver, can you tell me what bus I was on yesterday? I can't remember. I need to go all the way up Northwest. What bus I take up there? You know, this young man put a curse on me when I was little. He stared at me and put a curse on me. I don't know why. I don't know why he'd be that mean. Can somebody please tell me, who is it who know how to get to heaven, pull them angels down so they follow me around with the White Snake Lady? That lady she be looking all half snake and white and sh*t. Somebody tell me... who those people are. Hey you- sir (points to a friendly looking bearded ginger on the bus wrapped up in his kindle)- didn't I see you awhile back? Yea. When I was there... you was sitting in the throne, sayin you was God. Is you God?"

I was with her on the Snake Lady piece, but then she lost me. Sorry, lady- God is not a Ginger. He's just not. Ginger in question- my apologies if you ever read this blog, but you know it's true. Anyway, I think she may have called someone else out on being White Snake Lady, but I wasn't sure. She also taught me sign language (I'm not really sure if it was legit since I don't know any sign language). She taught me to make the letters 'C' and 'A,' saying that since I knew those, I knew enough to tell someone I liked them. I wonder what kind of lines you have to read between - or what order or repetition of those letters signals "I'm into you" - for them to have a decipherable meaning? I haven't been this confused since what's-his-face told us all there's a universal sign for "I want to have gay sex with you" that involves a wide stance in a bathroom stall. I'm now very aware of my own stance, afraid that I am inadvertently suggesting to the person next to me that I am actually a man and that I would like to engage in quiet, anonymous, passionate, politically dangerous sex with another man. This blog post is going nowhere good, much like today's weather, which prompted this religiously charged, though-provoking piece here.