Thursday, May 27, 2010

fourteen hour workday

In which our heroine finds herself at an after party in a swank SoHo hotel, supping on Pinot Grigio and shrimp roulade, only to remember how much she hates parties.

It must have been when the woman at my table said, "It was obviously the glittery leopard!" that I felt the urge.

And, because I'm currently beta-testing an abrupt and ass-kicking change of M.O., I slipped my purse out from under the registration desk, made like I was going to the loo, then snuck down the fire stairs into a gated park enclosure (under construction), hopped over a planter, cleared a chain link fence, and was suddenly free in the ninety degree night.

On the way to the train, I got a text from the Photojournalist. Did I want to meet for a nightcap? Sure, why not . . .

But sitting there on that park bench on Lafayette Street, I remember thinking, Good lord, but this man is a bore. A pretentious, self-inflated douchebag. Proof (as if I needed more) that artists and intellectuals, the men we consider 'interesting' and of a certain ilk, are really just phonies and cronies to lesser degrees of manhood.

So I left him there, legs crossed quizzically, as I practically sprinted to the subway.

I'm done, ladies and gentleman. I'm just done. I've got such better things to do than suffer this tedium of plying and posturing. Somewhere out there, someone's gonna treat me right. And he'll come looking for me. He'll listen to my bad jokes and ambling anecdotes. He'll stay out past his bedtime for the pleasure of my company and go to work exhausted. Because I'll be worth the effort.

For posterity's sake, however, may I just have one last rousing chorus of 'If This Is What's Out There, I'll Take Alone Any Day'?

Thank you, Internet.


Phoenix said...

Lol I love this post. Fuck yeah, G. This take-no-prisoners attitude is only gonna take you to some seriously awesome places.

M said...

Thats the spirit.

Anonymous said...

u r addicted to drama. ur brain wants the chemicals that r produced with drama. u want all these. it is all ur choice.

Hazel Banks said...

Dear Anonymous,
1. Grow some balls and pick a real/fake name at least.
2. Don't read the blog if you can boil a human being down to their brain chemistry.
3. Learn basic neurology or psychology- either would be helpful I'm sure.
4. I am sure Gabby won't be taking advice from someone who is stuck in the phase of using the popular typography of the high school text.
Use a name and use all the letters in a given word and then we can talk about your simplification of the brain, chemical imbalances and life choices.

Lady Ren said...

Hi- nice to find your blog- saw your reading list- I just started Pilgrim at Tinker Creek a few days ago- nice to meet you.

Anyms said...

Hzl Bnks,
rlx a bit