Blogs: The Best Way to Embarrass Friends

MmmmmmcGoff’s. I love that Scruffy starts filling a glass with tonic the moment I walk in the door. I am down here because the internet that I steal at home is out of service. What the crap? That’s no way to keep customers happy. But before I plan my class, a diversion:

So the other day, Spaz-Tastic and I were in the middle of a lovely lunch at the St. Peter Co-Op when we heard a Voice. This Voice was deep, rich, tremble-inspiring. This Voice was coming from a boy who, while probably around twenty-one, looked like he had just hit the home stretch of puberty: awkward, acne-ed, semi-greasy (though not smelly, like most of those damn hippies). Spaz and I started creating a movie trailer for a romantic comedy/action flick based on this boy’s catchphrase (“Are you a member of the co-op?). We had everything down: the way the camera panned over dead winter streets, cut to a woman bleakly shopping, followed her to the check-out, where the Voice startled her into a reply: “Why, no – should I be?” In that moment of connection, her life becomes intertwined with the boy’s. You can catch up on the plot if you read Spaz-Tastic’s post, because the best part was on a meta-level:

Spaz: Yeah, but we have to figure out the, you know, what’s it called, the high point -
Me: The climax of the movie? The crisis?
Spaz: Yeah, but isn’t there a French word for it?
Me: The only French I know for lit is denouement.
Spaz: No, that’s the falling action. What’s French for the climax? Isn’t it petit mort or something?

[incredulous pause]

Me: Spaz, that’s sexual climax!
Spaz: What?! Why doesn’t someone tell me these things?

The man at the next table frowned and told his small daughters to put their coats on. Spaz and I decided that the next time either of us has a chance to teach literature, it’ll be engorgement, petite mort, denouement. What’s that, students – sex offends you? You’re in college, bitches. Deal with it.


Yesterday, the temperature was a mighty six (Quoth Ivan: Six? That’s not a degree. That’s sarcasm.). As we were leaving Highland, Ganglebot received a distress call from his German-teaching friend, I’ll call him Kashrut, to save him from himself and from the weather (a lethal combination). We zipped over to the Free Lot in Stabby II (does it have a name yet, Gangles?) to find Kashrut standing outside his locked van, shivering. On the way to North Kato for the spare key, Kashrut explained that when he called Security to come help him, he was told that they don’t go out if it’s below ten.

WHAT?

Officer, I’m freezing! Please let me into my car. Sorry, we don’t go out if it’s under ten degrees. I’ve broken my ankle, and my nose is getting frostbite! Nope – four degrees. Indoor emergencies only. Help, I’m being raped! Sorry, ma’am, it’s too cold to save you.

Jerks.

More dialogues to come! My eye has landed on . . . Ganglebot. Heh heh heh.