Banksy

So here I am, on the PATH, on my way to check out the new Banksy graffiti in lower Manhattan. I'm really excited, these are all brand new pieces, the spray paint probably still aromatic.  I never remember to check out his art when I'm traveling, but now it's right here.  He said they'll be popping up all October, and with a toll-free number next to them that plays a recording of his commentary, like a museum guided tour.   His work is full of childish whimsy, which is typically lost when acquiring such a knack for social and political commentary.  It's sorta like a much more subversive Gary Larson.  I wonder if anyone has made that connection before?  Of course someone has, it's so obvious.  They probably wouldn't even bother to say it, it's such a shallow observation.  I'll give it the google test though, just to be sure.  Yep, well documented.

So it's at Allen and Canal St.  Chinatown.  Should I walk all the way there from World Trade to really get into the rhythm of the street and maybe recreate the moment of inspiration?  There are no crosstown trains to Chinatown anyway, remember when we learned that rushing for the Chintatown bus home that time?  Shit, maybe I should have taken that. But then I'd be stuck leaving the city by 10:30, and now that I'm unemployed, I can stay as late as I like. Plus I'd miss all this urban decay only viewable from the train.  Look at all those abandoned warehouses in those lots of cracked asphalt overgrown with tall grass along the Hudson, it's so toxic and post-apocalyptic.  I wonder how I would get there, there are no roads.  How would Banksy get there?  That whole building would be perfect for a Banksy piece, how many people would see it... 250,000 per day on average, according to sources.  I wonder what used to happen in that building? I wonder what their layoff notices were like?

The toll-free number is on his website... should I call it?  No, I should start trying to get into the right frame of mind. Banksy captures the human condition, the very same human condition that surrounds me in this train car.  I can see it in these people around me, all fish-eyed looking at their devices.  They need someone like Banksy to remind them of what they've all lost... by no fault of their own, of course.  I mean, what I've seen of Banksy's work he is very action-positive.  Action-positive can be a thing, right? That we can all make a choice to allow the world to affect us?  That it's not just all escapist Mickey Mouse culture? That we can do something, regardless of how ephemeral and insignificant?

It's 11:30 in the morning on a Wednesday.  I wonder how many people are victims of layoffs trying to explore the city in a way their 9-5 never permitted.  Those look like students, they seem busy and optimistic, and their faces are still taut, unworn by the "real world".  There's a tired woman with three children... why aren't they in school?  Do people wear ties to explore the city?  Do people take the subway to a job interview?  I wonder if there are other people from the Merck layoffs.  Can I claim solidarity with them even though I quit without notice after the announcement?  And I was just in the customer service pit?  Banksy says, "If you don't own a train company, then go and paint on one instead".  That's totally what sending that email felt like.  I guess since I have few responsibilities and am free to derail my life's course, it was my duty to use myself as a tiny wrench in the gears.  I'm sure that the groups I blind cc'd appreciated it, and that I did what they want to do, but had no way to show it that wouldn't get them in trouble.  That's what going to admire Banksy's street art is for me.  Showing my appreciation for that feeling of tiny revolution inside of me he sparks.

Should I listen to the recording at the number? Is that cheating?  Whatever, it's too distracting, I should just do it.  "...it's probably painted over by now".  That'd suck.  But wait, who is going to paint over it?  Especially with all the publicity for the city this is sure to draw.  I wonder if there will be police nearby guarding the wall.  What if there's a crowd?  Haha, maybe I'll take pictures of people taking pictures and post it on my blog.  No, that's too obvious, there'll probably be people doing that, too.  I'll make a people-watching project out of it and take pictures of people taking pictures of people.  Scratch that, I'm gonna feel too self-conscious taking pictures of anything, and I'd hate to have someone approach me and ask for an account of myself.  Maybe I'll look at the wall next door or across the street, sort of like performance art. No, that's stupid.  I'll just go to the restaurant across the street and have lunch, then go join the crowd. I'm hungry.  I don't really want Chinese though. If Banksy is lampooning museum tours, maybe I should go to the MoMA first.  I've always wanted to see the MoMA anyway, and they close, whereas I'm sure Banksy's piece will still be there later.  I'll hop on the 1 and head uptown, there will be more dining options there.  Today is awesome!

NYC Fringe Festival

I was reading the capsule descriptions at NYC Fringe Festival a couple weeks ago, and I noticed certain recurring themes and gimmicks, so I decided to write parody ones and present them to the general public and see if people could tell the difference.  I have provided a list that includes both sincere summaries of plays that are actually being performed in NYC for $18/ticket right now, and shit I made up.  See if you can tell the difference.  Answer key in comments.

1)  SLUT

SIXTEEEN. Pre-gaming. Empty ABSOLUT bottle. Luke, GEORGE, Tim. Back of a CAB. RIPPED underwear. HANDS everywhere. NO! Through the eyes of NYC teen girls, FACE the choices and EXPERIENCE the fallout from ONE life-altering Friday night.

2)  Snakes I Have Known

On my 16th birthday I find myself buck-ass naked and snake-bit outside my front door in Nowhere, TX. There are all kinds of snakes in my life. Some are reptiles. It's my journey from DFW to JFK, y'all.

3)  The Rise and Fall of the Kinky Wizards
Skateboarding. Pop culture references.  Kleptomania. Box after box of hair dye from CVS.  Come witness the tale of Vince and Justin, the skateboarding shoplifters from cult classic film High Fidelity as they nearly redefine the sound of the 90's.

4)  Next

Having lived on a boat for 3 years and published a hit novel inspired by it, Holly struggles to find anybody to deeply relate to. Former Gilmore Girls writer Julie McCullough takes you on a journey into loneliness and confessions over mojitos and explores difference between relief and real passion.

5)  One Way Out
What do you get when you throw a neurotic Jew, a retired Filipino stock trader with high functioning autism, a heart surgeon who is a single mother of three, a Parisian cartographer from 1850, and James Joyce and trap them in an elevator?  Not much, until Friedrich Nietzsche starts speaking through a one-way intercom and reveals that one of them has a gun.

6)  PUSSY

A lesbian couple whose love is on the rocks, their overly curious landlady and one very opinionated cat ... this love triangle is starting to get crowded. 

7)  Stanton
OH NO'S! Looks like the playground has been taken over by bullies!  But not just ordinary bullies, vampire ninja bullies. Stanton has no choice but to team up with a band of warthogs to fight the battle against not only the bullies, but mutants and cultural hegemony.  

8)  The Order of the Cape

From the ashes of a mysterious apocalypse that wiped out most of mankind, a new society forms with comic books as the guiding template. Fanfic is the new Shakespeare, Superman vs Batman is the new holy war in this deep examination of the influence mythology has on society that draws thought-provoking parallels to the world we live in.

9)  HORSE PLAY The Musical 

Horses place the bets as a NYC carriage driver falls in love with a woman intent on banning horses from Central Park. A rock score drives this universal tale about life, freedom and how love of horses brings people together.

10)  Ex Machina

Two Smartphone factory drones must learn to coexist while under threat from fascist anti-union politics, drunk guards, and a sexy anarchist unfettered by the laws of physics. A dystopian dark comedy about dancing, Nekko Wafers, and the thrill of rebellion.

11)  See Jane Give Up Dick
See Jane. See Jane Give Up Dick. A highly sexual Manhattanite attempts to give up ‘giving it up’ for one full year. See Jane discover if putting an end to her slutty ways can be more rewarding than multiple orgasms.

12)  Manic Pixie Dream Girl: A Graphic Novel Play
The darkly comic story of a struggling artist and his mysterious muse, told in the style of a graphic novel. MPDG is a beer-drinking, pop-culture referencing, punch to the theatrical gut—more High Fidelity than Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf

13)  Katie Broke Up With Me       

Guys, Katie broke up with me again, and it's for real this time. So I sold my DJ equipment and wrote a puppet show about our relationship and how bleak my future is without her. I asked Bill Oldham to do the soundtrack, but he didn't get back to me in time. I'd describe the puppets but I'm almost out of sp

14)  The Rufus Equation

Nerd + Math = Sex. What's love got to do with quantum physics? Professor Bert Rufus is awkward with women – especially with the alluring physicist Alys Smith. Bert invents a secret device that will shock the world...and might even get him laid. 

 15)  MONOCULAR MAN

In the era of Viet Nam, Woodstock, and dot-matrix, everyone's making bombs, including our long-haired, short-winded, one-eyed hero. "Explosive," "literary," and "comic," MM travels suburbs from Swampscott to Miami, taking on race, privilege (his), manhood, and fried chicken.

16)  Stretched Thin
Carolina's years working the donkey show are behind her, but the bare spot on her resume has relegated her to lousy retail jobs. Her roommate Julia has a masters degree in comparative lit and has found herself in a similar position.  Join this unlikely pair on their journey of learning what really matters in a tough job market.

17)  Step Three
Floyd is a jaded Vietnam vet who recently came out of the closet and lives with his ex-wife, their unemployable son... And a trampoline that can predict the future. Get rich quick schemes collide with old grudges and the result is hilarity, emotional healing, and the time travel paradox sometimes all at once!

18)  Just a Minute

Freddie Burks is a struggling playwright who is on the verge of a breakthrough that would save his career, his relationship, his credit score, and his dog Muffin. All of this relies on one phone call, but he hasn't paid his bill and may lose service any minute as he argues with his fiancee and his mother keeps calling.  Oh, and there's someone holding a cocked bow and arrow in the background.

19)  A Fallopian Fairy Tale
Maligaya is on a mission "to take the pink out of Princess and put it back in the pussy." With her pitch for a Disney meets "Girls" children's book at stake, stories from her life expose a less charming reality. 

20)  Mind the Gap

Have a seat as a table full of New Yorkers and Londoners hash it out over whose respective countrymen are the more insufferable tourists.  The true setting, however, is the real mystery in this cerebral comedy driven by witty dialogue and geographical minutia. If you can correctly guess the location at the end, prizes include gift certificates to local restaurants.

A Letter From the Atlantic

Dear Ian,

I am writing to humbly request that you stop trying to use me as inspiration for poetry.  Yes, I know that I let you pee in me*, but I have to draw the line somewhere.  It is not that your verse in inherently bad... I mean, it is, but that is not what I take issue with.  Were I to address every line of awful poetry put forth on my account, I would be constantly writing notices and would probably just draft a form letter.  No, yours is especially intolerable because it is fraught with precious concepts ensconced in banal inaccuracies. I would like to point out a few of them.

First of all, you were musing wistfully about whether you were standing in the essentially same water as the Pacific Ocean.  The answer is "No, you're not." Water molecules are all unique, regardless of their similar chemical reactivity.  I am certain that if I heated you to 212 degrees, you would react the same way most people would as well.  I am going to go ahead and anticipate your wanky post-modern rebuttal of "But there is no essence that marks water as 'Atlantic' and 'Pacific', humans made up those handles, all the water is one."  You clearly followed this logic as you spoke your desires underneath waves, as though this "unified water of the world" is your personal messaging system.  Did you receive a response?  No, you did not, so stop reading Buddhist texts summarized on people's blogs.  Or is this that David Foster Wallace graduation speech again?  Ugh, that keeps popping up, and whenever it does I get people staring at me saying "This is water. This is water.", while estimated figures of their student loan debt flash through their mind.

And then, as though completely unaware of how this contradicts the thought you just had, you started trying to phrase the process of how the specific water that heard your words will spread them gradually until all the water carries your message, a thorough display of both narcissism and poor knowledge of geography. Watching you try to weave metaphors from that was like trying to watch someone build a sand castle with an empty soda can.

Also, that butterfly did not land on your head because you were born of the universal salt waters an hour prior and it wanted to grant you new life, and it was not lured by the traces of life-giving sea salt.  It was lured by your shiny bald spot.  If you want to write a poem about that, be my guest, but keep me out of it.

I know that you heard a song called "Dead Sea" last night and you may feel like the Dead Sea or that you are wandering the Dead Sea, but guess what? I consulted the internet and discovered that neither of us are the Dead Sea.  If I was the Dead Sea, then that crab that punctured your toe would not have been there (because, as you acutely observed, very few creatures can live in the Dead Sea), and if you were the Dead Sea, you would be several thousand miles away and full of people with nasty skin conditions who are too cheap to buy ointment.

Your version of "if you love someone, let them go, etc" adapted for the ocean was nothing short of hackneyed, not to mention full of human privilege assumptions.  First of all, way to go for the first and most basic concept of the tide.  Second, do you know who decides whether something returns from the ocean?  Me.  I know that from your perspective, it may appear as though people are acting of their own agency, that is a very carefully performed act.  If the ocean was involved in that saying, it would read "If you love someone, let them go, unless it is in the ocean, in which case you should hold on to them until they are safe on dry land."

In closing, your pathetic meandering thought process is not only amateurish and full of fallacies, it is boring, and that says a lot coming from me, my favorite show is "Continental Drift".  Good luck continuing to compose verse that is a Wes Anderson parody of thought provoking or deep.

Fuck you and suck my balls**,

The Atlantic Ocean

*Actually, that's kind of a turn-on. Oh god, don't tell anyone I said that though.

**Of course I have balls. If you didn't go to a Catholic school, you'd know this.

Hunter S. Thompson Reviews Vegan Bakery

(GONZO is sitting at a table at “Flour Power Vegan Donut Shop & Bakery” as the lights come up, laptop in front of him.)

GONZO

After what was deemed a "fascinating but regrettably un-publishable attempt at journalism" in Las Vegas, I was sent… here.  I am serving what is ostensibly my punishment: write a review for "Flour Power Vegan Donut Shop”.  I’m here with the usual tools of the trade: laptop for my official thoughts, notepad for my actual thoughts, a pen with which to impale thoughts, and a snazzy urban backpack replete with 8 and a half psychedelic mushrooms, 17 flavorful strains of cannabis, 2 Pez dispensers of molly, an eye dropper of ketamine, a toilet paper roll dipped in blotter acid, and a flask of tequila in case I need to puke it all up later.  Vegans. These people are here for the same reason I’m here: something went horribly wrong.  They give up meat to try and diagnose their mismanaged lives, or they indulge in gastric novelties to distract themselves from discovering more things that just don’t matter.  Eat that faux-bacon-studded maple glazed pastry and maybe, for just one more day, something like love is still possible.  As though it is possible to experience love when love encourages you to continue doing the things that make you yourself, the one person in the world you despise more than all those other everything-consumers out there. Eat a vegan éclair or a pistol, and be grateful that no animals were harmed when the American Dream was embalmed with a non-dairy based confection.

How did I end up here?  Let me retrace the steps. 

(SHOP OWNER walks in, also wearing aviators and a vintage print shirt, so GONZO thinks he’s seeing himself)

Oh, there I am walking in… except I didn’t have all those goddamned letters on my forehead. I walked in, and took note of all the ads on the door.  They're all...

Swing dancing

Anarchist rhetoric

Memes

Union protest

Equal rights

Live Music

Acupuncture

DJs

Acting lessons

Meditation,

Social justice

Or SAMUEL ADAMS for short. 

(SHOP OWNER approaches GONZO)

Wait! What are you doing here? We can't just hang out like this.  Get those letters off your forehead, you’llmakeafoolofmyself!

SHOP OWNER

(Takes glasses off)

K… Well, let us know if you need anything!

(Approaches WAITRESS)

Wow! I want whatever donut you gave him!

WAITRESS

He hasn’t had any.

SHOP OWNER

What!? We need him to write a good review!  This decision to distribute through Safeway has been a PR nightmare! That crowd of protesters is growing every day!

PROTESTERS

(Offstage)

DOWN WITH CORPORATE GREED!

DOWN WITH UNFAIR WAGES!

PLUS, SAFEWAY DOESN’T TREAT THEIR EMPLOYEES WELL, SO IF YOU HAVE THEM SELL YOUR DONUTS THEN YOU ARE AN ACCOMPLICE TO INJUSTICE!

OWNER

Their chants are getting more and more convoluted, and they keep putting shit on the door. Go work your magic, get on his good side!

WAITRESS

I’m not sure I like the energy I’m getting from him!  I think he took a roll of our toilet paper… he’s creepy!

SHOP OWNER

He’s not creepy, he’s just… indie!  Go flirt with him!

(DEMON WAITRESS follows WAITRESS and mimics WAITRESS’ actions and repeats what she says in demonic monotone.  DEMON WAITRESS only repeats things that are flirtatious)

WAITRESS

(DEMON WAITRESS repeats)

I like your shirt.  You’re obviously very open-minded and confident in your… masculinity.  Would you like a menu?

GONZO

(Scared out of his mind)

Oh! Uh, OKifyouinsist. 

(Looks at laptop)

Why can't I get online?

WAITRESS

(DEMON WAITRESS repeats)

Oh, it’s that Occupy protest outside!  They’re “occupying” our free WiFi! Heh. Heh. Heh. They’ve also been “occupying” our bathroom.

(She leans in closely to place menu on table)

GONZO

Stop eating me!

WAITRESS

(DEMON WAITRESS repeats)

Hah hah hah, you’re funny!  Here, let me read you our specials.

We have banana glazed crendles, walnut raisinnnn sneaker panda-pads. Chocolate Kenilworth the layperson files. Sticky gender blocks.  Twenty nine-hotdogs, (pointing at him) Cheddar.  Enjehhh memr smems kibbeh? 

GONZO

Kibbeh?

WAITRESS

(DEMON repeat mockingly)

KIBBEHHHHHH tis!

SHOP OWNER

(Disappointed & peeved)

Kibbeh? Rumbut skumplebart.

(SHOP OWNER exits. WAITRESS and DEMON WAITRESS wander, and in the background do evil seductive dancing/motions.)

GONZO

How am I supposed to select a donut in these conditions?  Communication with the outside world is unfathomable! My only connection to reality is my own recorded thoughts and Samuel Adams at the door.  Samuel Adams at the... oh there he is now!

(Enter SAMUEL ADAMS, drunk as hell holding his eponymous beer) 

What do you think of the Occupy movement? Is this the sort of revolution you condone?

SAMUEL ADAMS

Well it seems to be a congregation of confused rebels chanting slanted facts and out of context statistics.  The American Revolution was a bit different… Or was it?  I could have been a passionate orator whose speeches incited a righteous and informed revolution… or maybe I was a propaganda spewing instigator, a manipulator of confused and angry mobs. What’s the difference?

GONZO

For some reason this is not how I imagined you at all.

SAMUEL ADAMS

Not so! You are imagining me right now!  Truth becomes a four-letter word when society forgets how to count.  This is what happens when people learn about you from beer bottles and Jeopardy questions.  The same thing will happen to you!

GONZO

You mean, most people are going to remember nothing of me other than my use of psychedelic drugs?

SAMUEL ADAMS

Frat boys will quote your work to sound smart, just like people offer Sam Adams lager at parties to look classy.  You have no choice so you should embrace it. Also, have you checked your toilet paper?

(SAMUEL ADAMS exits)

GONZO

Good idea, I need another hit.  Where is it?

WAITRESS

(DEMON WAITRESS repeating)

Aren’t you supposed to be writing a review?  We could really use the publicity.

GONZO

(Spastically looking around)

I could really use not being eaten! 

(Swings a fly swatter at WAITRESS until DEMON WAITRESS runs away)  

I think a toilet paper roll might have fallen out of my bag and rolled off somewhere, have you seen it?

WAITRESS

You mean our toilet paper that you stole? I put it back in our bathroom!

GONZO

What!? No, that was- Oh god! Has it been in use?

WAITRESS

You kidding me? With all these protesters coming in, not buying anything and using the bathroom… I put it back 45 minutes ago and it’s already gone.

(WAITRESS exits. While the protesters deliver their lines, GONZO takes mask out of his bag, looks at it for a second, puts it on, exits)

(Offstage)

PROTESTER 1

(Frightened)

Why is this water so far apart?

PROTESTER 2

(Accusingly)

Stop throwing those opinions at me, thought sprinkler!

PROTESTER 3

(Defensive)

Stop looking at me as though I’m sort of your construction site is ruining this neighborhood.com!

PROTESTER 4

Let’s all say “Rup!”

EVERYONE

“RUP!”

PROTESTER 4

Again!

EVERYONE

“RRRRUP!”

PROTESER 4

Thank you!

PROTESTER 5

(Announcement)

If I could. I would eat.  Sand!

End

Rainbow Unicorn

Immediately before he went to bed, Mark purchased a coupon: $10 for $17 worth of food from groupon.com to this new downtown vegan cafe called The Rainbow Unicorn*. The terms and conditions for the coupon are as convoluted as the relationship he just got out of and therefore a liability if used in the presence of others, but he is determined to use it on a date regardless. See, his ex was as finicky, uptight, and judgmental as they come, so he was trying to find someone more laid back as a rebound. The type who would enjoy a vegan restaurant and wouldn't get bent out of shape if he used a difficult coupon. Imbued with his new purpose to distract him from the pain he'd recently experienced, Mark was kept awake by thoughts of wide-eyed girls with colorful clothing, directionless conversations and laughter, and condition-free sex with no follow-up questions aside from those with no wrong answers. Despite the restlessness, he woke up well before any hippie chick he could imagine would and read up on current events so he would have something to talk about other than heartbreak and consumer electronics.

That morning on the light rail, Mark didn't even need to try maintaining the enlightened glow he was rehearsing that morning in the bathroom mirror, which is for the better because it actually looked more like a self-righteous smirk than anything else. Most men bemoan the way beautiful women only seem to notice them when they are in committed relationships. While this may be true, there are other instances where men appear downright radiant to the opposite sex, and those times are never mentioned because they aren't as much fun to complain about. One example of this radiance is the phase Mark is in right now. Mark is glowing and perfectly content not because of a woman, but because of himself and his joyful anticipation. He experiences bliss almost equal to a sexual release just from taking a deep breath and fixing his posture. It feels like his spine extends and pushes his head up to the ceiling, and when he opens his eyes he meets the relaxed smile of lips so pouty that such a smile should appear forced, and wide sapphire eyes with no discernible ability to close until somehow her eyelids travel down for a blink. There was plenty to be skeptical about between her eyes and her lips, but in that instant Mark only notices her tribal motif and buffet-style simple elegance, and still near the beginning of his exhale he compliments her necklace as though that was his intention all along. He couldn't tell if her necklace was made with bones or petrified wood or lacquered recycled board game pieces, any of those items could find themselves dangling from her extremities or resting on the ramp leading towards her unbound but nonetheless remarkable breasts. Before long, he is missing his stop so he can listen to the brief narratives associated with her personal possessions, all of which seem to have resulted from road trips and personal discovery. The train is at the first traffic light in Tempe when she mentions her beliefs about eating locally and sustainably grown food, and how she volunteers to help out on farms in Wilcox once per month. Just as he was about to run out of clean ways to express his amusement, Mark seizes in on the opportunity. "Speaking of which," he says, "have you heard of The Rainbow Unicorn Cafe?" She shakes her head without expression but without breaking eye contact. He continues with a bright chipperness that betrays a lack of social awareness, "Yeah, it's this new vegan restaurant that only uses locally grown ingredients! Only things that grow in Arizona. It's the Rainbow Unicorn!" Now she clutches her bag and looks at the floor. "Umm, ok. You don't have to be sarcastic." This is not what Mark expected. His frivolity is deflating, but traces of it can still be heard as he says, "I'm sorry, what do you mean?" She continues, "I get it, you're saying 'If you want to find locally grown produce in Arizona, it is like looking for a rainbow or a unicorn'." "No, that's not it at all!" "Well then what did you mean? That I'm just some shallow hippie dippie flower child who collects funky jewelry and goes to places called 'The Rainbow Unicorn'?" Mark tried to explain, "No, The Rainbow Unicorn is a real place, it's a restaurant downtown", but it was of no use. "Don't insult my intelligence," she said. "Nobody would put all the time and effort into opening a restaurant and then blow it all by calling it 'The Rainbow Unicorn'. I give people more credit than that." The train slowed down as she stood up, clearly to leave, but he was still trying to salvage the situation. "I swear, it's a real place! It exists! I don't have any proof of it, but I know it does!" She disembarks without further comment. At least there was one more stop before the end of the line, otherwise he'd have been forced to get off the train and either hang out at the platform, implicitly admitting that he missed his stop just to talk to her, or he could leave the platform and pretend that was his stop and walk briskly across the street like he was going somewhere and then eventually go back to the station once the girl was out of sight. Mark wonders which of those he would have done as he texts his boss to say he is going to be a little late.

Mark boards the next westbound train feeling basically the exact opposite of the sensation from earlier. It is now mid-morning, most of the passengers are either college students or people with undesirable jobs and maybe a few people who were too hung over to wake up on time for their desirable jobs. Mark doesn't want to talk to anybody, so he sits in a corner in order to make sure that he will have at least one unoccupied side to turn towards and take a nap. Just as he starts to find a comfortable day dream, a girl asks the time. She wasn't addressing anybody in particular, but Mark was closest. He read the exact time from his phone, turning his head towards her without looking, and she was elbow-deep in her purse and didn't even acknowledge his answer for at least twenty seconds. He didn't hear her reply at all, but it did sound inarticulate and friendly so after a few seconds, he focused his vision and turned toward her to reply. They had a friendly and inarticulate conversation that seemed to mention a few cartoon characters, the uselessness of certain kitchen items, and a small town off I-40 in Arkansas that they both had a bad experience in. It was like pillow talk, as though they were distracted by the magnitude of something that just drained their energy. Anything seemed acceptable at this point, so Mark asked if she wanted to meet at the Rainbow Unicorn Cafe sometime. She agreed with easy enthusiasm, like accepting a bowl of popcorn. They exchanged numbers as Mark got off at his stop.

Their interactions were so care-free, Mark wondered if the "1-day" rule for calling someone even applied. He debated the issue until a day had gone by anyway, and he asked if she wanted to meet there on Thursday. She said anytime after 5 was ok. He printed his coupon at work using their expensive color printer, and the Rainbow Unicorn emblem looks very high-concept, so he decides to call ahead to reserve a table. When nobody answers, he imagines they must be very busy indeed... though he is a bit confused when a generic recording reads their phone number because they haven't set up their voice mail yet. He leaves a message anyway, and when he shows up at 5 a table is available for him. After fifteen minutes, he sends her a text message to make sure she wasn't lost, but receives no response. Just to occupy himself, he asked the hostess about his coupon and what the terms and conditions mean. It was about 5:30 when he got an answer, and that was when the girl from the light rail arrived and apologized for her lateness as she went behind the counter. She wasn't apologizing to him, but to the hostess. He could have prevented a very awkward moment if he thought before saying, "Wait, you work here?!" She responded, "Oh yeah, I thought you knew that." Then she paused and looked up from the utensils she was wrapping and said, "OH! You wanted to meet here... Ohhhhhh... um, sorry?" Normally, Mark would leave this alone and find answers within his own thoughts, but something snapped in him. "Wait. What about me asking if you want to 'meet at The Rainbow Unicorn Cafe sometime' indicates that I somehow knew you worked here? That doesn't make any sense." She was caught off guard and paused, then said, "Well I thought maybe you saw me here before or something and just wanted to stop by." Marks eyebrows couldn't possibly arch any more inward, but he still tried and said, "But what in anything I said even remotely implied that I knew where you worked?" She looked up at him once again and said, "I guess I don't know. Would you like me to get you anything?" As Mark left with his $5 smoothie, he started to guess at the nature of their easy exchange on the light rail and wanted nothing to do with it anymore. That confrontation made him realize that with personalities, you make trade-offs no differently than you do with consumer goods, career choices, and everything else in the world. He boarded the light rail and ripped up his coupon in dramatic fashion, which meant that he had to clutch the unmanageable remnants of the two-page coupon until he reached his stop. Sitting perfectly still with his elbows resting on his knees and his head resting on his fists scarcely closed around bits of paper featuring a colorful high-concept emblem, he prayed this wouldn't lead to a conversation.



* In case you are reading this and aren't familiar with the Phoenix "metro" area, this place actually exists. While I may also be lightly satirizing the mores of vegan restaurants in general, I am not making up that name to be funny. If I were to use a parody name, I would certainly try to be more clever. This is an actual vegan restaurant/gallery space that is actually called The Rainbow Unicorn.