come on let's go
What's the point in wasting time
on people that you'll never know?
The gay college kid behind the counter at Urban Outfitters yesterday thought I looked like Maggie Gyllenhaal; he told me he thought I was her when he saw me in line.
No one has ever actually mistaken me for a celebrity so I was intrigued. "Really?" I said. I used to work in retail so I asked him the first thing I would have wanted to know. "Did you wonder what I was buying?"
"Oh totally," he said. “I wondered what you were wearing & what you were buying."
My coat was missing a button & my hair was noticeably unwashed (then again, how chic!) & I looked at the pitiful spread between us on the counter. 4 hot pink water glasses for my dish-starved kitchen, 2 pairs of deeply, deeply discounted underwear & a silly ring from the 99-cent bin.
"No," I sighed. "I'm not her," for the first time vaguely wishing I were.
Eh, anyway. Stupid Maggie G. & her unpronounceable last name (I can never remember whether the G is hard or soft) & droopy face & adorable brother.
In roommate news, lucky Joel is flying to Austin for SXSW today, or as music-industry types call it, "South By." & Maria is sad because the other nite her amazing bong broke. The cat sprang out of her arms & hit the bong, which fell to the floor & shattered. "It's these hard concrete floors," she said sadly. "If it had only fallen on the carpet..."
Which reminds me of when my friend Jessie in high school was wasted + tripping + stoned & she fell flat on her face on our friend Chris's driveway. "It was the driveway's fault," she said. "It came up & bit me."
Just like the bong broke because of the floor, not because of the cat. Still. I'm relieved I didn't do it. I don't know how much it cost but it was a very elaborate piece of equipment.
My new pink glasses from Urban are not elaborate, but they are very cute. They came with little stickers that say "DO NOT POUR THE BOILING WATER INTO THE MERCHANDISE." That made me laugh.
