For an explanation of what this column is all about, go HERE for the first installment, and if you're interested the other entries are available as well. (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9)
This Week's Topic: New Wave Hookers and the Small Children Who Love Them
(PS -I have no idea why everything is underlined -I refuse to accept responsibility. Just pretend you're back in grade school -it's appropriate, believe me.)
(The incident mentioned below occurred at approximately 11:00am Central Time, at a 7-11 located somewhere in the Chicago area. No parties name's were changed for their protection...)
So there I am getting my coffee as per usual. But while that is my usual morning routine, whether before school or work, this morning was different. A little “extra-special” you might say. I don't know if I mentioned that I lecture on film but I do and last Thursday I was starting my three part Blade Runner lecture and screening of the final cut. In honor of the occasion I dressed up...a little more than I usually do. My outfit consisted of dark cuffed jeans, heeled black boots with corset lacing in the back, tight military-style peacoat with collar upturned to frame face, hair straightened and pulled into two spiky pigtails with a few random flyaway pieces and long bangs in front with silver streaks (natural) prominently displayed and bright pink and magenta eyemakeup, extended past the side of eye to near temple and with geisha eyeliner, blush and sheer shimmer for fun effect. In short...I looked purdy. (It should be noted that my ability to give such a description is owed in no small part to the countless trashy historical romance novels I've read which excel at detailing the minutiae of various costumes and general appearance. )
Now I've just started pouring my coffee when a woman walks in with her young son. His eyes immediately rivet on me -which to my way of thinking was probably normal -I don't look like the average 7-11 patron that you'd see before midnight. And he keeps staring. I continue to fix my coffee. Suddenly I hear his little voice (I think he was 5 or 6 but I'm bad with children -not to discriminate but they all look the same to me) say, “Mom -she looks just like those ladies in that movie.” She turns to see who he's talking about, as she had not taken notice of my appearance in the store upon entering. She gives me kind of an apologetic smile and says, “We watch a lot of movies with him.” I nod and smile back and she leans down to ask him which movie he was talking about. When he can't remember she begins prompting him, trying to help him. “Was it the one about the musicians that we watched the other night?” He says it's not. “Was it the one about Japan with the dancers?” (I'm sure she meant geishas but was too polite to say that) He again says no. I can tell he's getting frustrated. At this point I'm thinking he'll remember at 4am and he'll rush in to wake her up and tell her. That's what we do. Finally she says, “Well honey I can't think of what else we've watched recently.” And then...the fog lifts, the sun comes over the horizon, and his wee little memory clicks into place.
“I remember!” he says.
“Oh,” asks the mother, “well who does she remind you of?”
“HOOKERS!” he says proudly.
I bust up laughing. The owner of the store barely manages to suppress his on a hacking cough. The mother turns red. I'm still laughing as I put the lid on my coffee.
The mother, obviously embarrassed and worried that she might look like your typical negligent parent, is quick to ream him out. After a few minutes, I looked over at the kid and he looked totally confused and near tears. I felt like I had to intervene. I walked over to him, in all my lady-of-ill-repute glory and lean down and ask him, “When you saw those ladies, what did you think of them?” He thinks for a second, the wee memory once again having to go back in time, and then he finally says, “Well, I thought they were pretty. They had pretty eyes and really nice clothes that were lots of colors and they laughed a lot and they seemed really happy. I liked them.” I smiled and said, “Thanks.” I then stood and looked at the mother and reminded her that it's all about perception. He didn't know that the word had a negative connotation -he thought he was saying something nice and in truth he was -from his perspective. I explained to her that I was in no way offended but that if she's that concerned, she might just want to either explain to him what the word means (in a slightly censored fashion) or just not let him watch movies where “women of questionable morals” have such a prominent part. I told her to have a nice day and as I was walking off I heard her mutter to the kid, “I'm going to have a talk with your father when I get home.”
I went to my lecture and told them what happened. They laughed. Then I turned to my friend Dale who just had a baby girl and said, “So you see Dale, just remember that if someone says your daughter looks like a hooker when she's older, it's not always a bad thing.”
It could have been worse. He might have caught me on the day I gave my Deliverance lecture!
Next Week's Topic...probably something about trashy historical romance novels This Week's Topic: New Wave Hookers and the Small Children Who Love Them
(PS -I have no idea why everything is underlined -I refuse to accept responsibility. Just pretend you're back in grade school -it's appropriate, believe me.)
(The incident mentioned below occurred at approximately 11:00am Central Time, at a 7-11 located somewhere in the Chicago area. No parties name's were changed for their protection...)
So there I am getting my coffee as per usual. But while that is my usual morning routine, whether before school or work, this morning was different. A little “extra-special” you might say. I don't know if I mentioned that I lecture on film but I do and last Thursday I was starting my three part Blade Runner lecture and screening of the final cut. In honor of the occasion I dressed up...a little more than I usually do. My outfit consisted of dark cuffed jeans, heeled black boots with corset lacing in the back, tight military-style peacoat with collar upturned to frame face, hair straightened and pulled into two spiky pigtails with a few random flyaway pieces and long bangs in front with silver streaks (natural) prominently displayed and bright pink and magenta eyemakeup, extended past the side of eye to near temple and with geisha eyeliner, blush and sheer shimmer for fun effect. In short...I looked purdy. (It should be noted that my ability to give such a description is owed in no small part to the countless trashy historical romance novels I've read which excel at detailing the minutiae of various costumes and general appearance. )
Now I've just started pouring my coffee when a woman walks in with her young son. His eyes immediately rivet on me -which to my way of thinking was probably normal -I don't look like the average 7-11 patron that you'd see before midnight. And he keeps staring. I continue to fix my coffee. Suddenly I hear his little voice (I think he was 5 or 6 but I'm bad with children -not to discriminate but they all look the same to me) say, “Mom -she looks just like those ladies in that movie.” She turns to see who he's talking about, as she had not taken notice of my appearance in the store upon entering. She gives me kind of an apologetic smile and says, “We watch a lot of movies with him.” I nod and smile back and she leans down to ask him which movie he was talking about. When he can't remember she begins prompting him, trying to help him. “Was it the one about the musicians that we watched the other night?” He says it's not. “Was it the one about Japan with the dancers?” (I'm sure she meant geishas but was too polite to say that) He again says no. I can tell he's getting frustrated. At this point I'm thinking he'll remember at 4am and he'll rush in to wake her up and tell her. That's what we do. Finally she says, “Well honey I can't think of what else we've watched recently.” And then...the fog lifts, the sun comes over the horizon, and his wee little memory clicks into place.
“I remember!” he says.
“Oh,” asks the mother, “well who does she remind you of?”
“HOOKERS!” he says proudly.
I bust up laughing. The owner of the store barely manages to suppress his on a hacking cough. The mother turns red. I'm still laughing as I put the lid on my coffee.
The mother, obviously embarrassed and worried that she might look like your typical negligent parent, is quick to ream him out. After a few minutes, I looked over at the kid and he looked totally confused and near tears. I felt like I had to intervene. I walked over to him, in all my lady-of-ill-repute glory and lean down and ask him, “When you saw those ladies, what did you think of them?” He thinks for a second, the wee memory once again having to go back in time, and then he finally says, “Well, I thought they were pretty. They had pretty eyes and really nice clothes that were lots of colors and they laughed a lot and they seemed really happy. I liked them.” I smiled and said, “Thanks.” I then stood and looked at the mother and reminded her that it's all about perception. He didn't know that the word had a negative connotation -he thought he was saying something nice and in truth he was -from his perspective. I explained to her that I was in no way offended but that if she's that concerned, she might just want to either explain to him what the word means (in a slightly censored fashion) or just not let him watch movies where “women of questionable morals” have such a prominent part. I told her to have a nice day and as I was walking off I heard her mutter to the kid, “I'm going to have a talk with your father when I get home.”
I went to my lecture and told them what happened. They laughed. Then I turned to my friend Dale who just had a baby girl and said, “So you see Dale, just remember that if someone says your daughter looks like a hooker when she's older, it's not always a bad thing.”
It could have been worse. He might have caught me on the day I gave my Deliverance lecture!
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