Mind-bogglingly Stupid Conversation Overheard at the Bean in NYC on 8/16/2013

Well, by popular demand I've decided to commit to paper... virtual paper that is, the incredibly bizarre conversation I endured tonight while sitting in a cafe in NYC. As I begin, I tell myself it will only take a few moments to jot down.. I know it will take vastly more time than that.  But, here we go anyway...

 

 

I'm impetuous. As many of you already know, I'm something of a workaholic and at any given time, I have about a dozen different projects on my plate. An album, a novel, a film and some toy projects loom above me most of the time... there's just always a ton of stuff going on. But what you may not know is that a lot of these projects happen very spontaneously. In a flash I will get an idea and I don't find a reasonable place for it like an intelligent person, I don't plan ahead to get started on it at some later date... I just.... GO!

 

So, tonight, I was sitting at home after a fantastic meal of lobster and oysters at The Smith on 3rd ave. After taking oh... five minutes to digest, I jumped into packing CDs to ship to Dragoncon. About half way into it, it occurred to me that since the new album (Raised by Bats) and the new book (The Legend of Candy Claws) won't be done in time, it would make some sense to create postcards to hand out for each of those projects. Each could have an eye-catching piece of art on the front and some information about where to find updates on the back. And as it often goes, that flash of an idea became a moral imperative and in my mind, it had to be done immediately!

 

Now, as it happens, there is no internet access in the Lair of Voltaire. This is by design. The fact is that if there were internet access, I would never leave this dark tower. So, I was forced... by design... to take a walk to a local cafe where I could sip some espresso while creating some art on my laptop and then upload it to 4over4.com, the website I'd be using to print the postcards.

 

I made my way to The Bean on 1st avenue and 9th street, a local haunt. I grabbed an Americano and flipped open the laptop. I didn't have much time. It was 11pm and The Bean closes as midnight. Only one hour? It almost seemed like a challenge. Could I create both sides of two postcards, upload them to the 4over4.com website and place my orders within one hour? There was only one way to know. The challenge was accepted. 

 

Yes, folks, this is what I call excitement on a Friday night in New York City, in case you are wondering...

 

I was able to start and finish the postcard for the Candy Claws book fairly quickly, get it uploaded to the site and placed my order. I was rather pleased with myself. Then I looked at the time. It was about a quarter to midnight. Hm... not much time to work on the Raised by Bats postcard, but I would try anyway. I opened the template and started dragging in the cover art by Michael Komarck.

 

Suddenly, a couple sauntered through the glass doors of the cafe. 

 

"Here! Here is the perfect place!" bellowed the woman. She pointed at the table next to me, more specifically at the electrical outlet under it. The man followed her as she sat beside me. He plugged the charger of his cell phone into the wall socket to my right and took the seat across the table from her. They were a black couple. The man was tall and handsome and it later occurred to me that he was dressed like a dapper academic in a pressed white shirt with a lovely vest that had some pattern I didn't completely fix my eyes on. His female counterpart was a light skinned black woman, possibly bi-racial, with freckles and tawny curls that made me think of Shirley Temple. Her round frame was wrapped tightly in some kind of pastel sweatsuit. I'm not sure if that's what people call them these days now that there are "designer" sweat suits. It may have been by Juicy or some other brand, but I do believe the intention was NOT to appear to have come straight from the gym, but rather to be tuned in to what's happening in the world of fashion. Perhaps.... I'm not really qualified to judge.

 

He instantly began, "Tell me about yourself in ten words."

 

She guffawed. "I can't do that! I'm a writer! You know I'd need more than ten words to describe myself." I thought that odd. Both parts actually. Asking someone to describe themselves in ten worlds seemed really.... well, hokey. But the answer was just as perplexing. Claiming to be a writer and then insisting you can't distill something down to its essence in ten words is like saying, "Sorry, I haven't mastered writing to a point where I can be CONCISE!" She clearly never heard of a haiku.. or Twitter, for that matter.

 

"Well, in that case..." his voice was soft and measured. "Vanilla or Strawberry?"

 

"Strawberry!" She smiled. It reminds me of a beautiful summer day.

 

"East Village or West Village?" 

 

She grinned. "I like the West Village. But I also like Harlem and the Upper East Side, Gramercy park and The Lower East side."

 

He leaned in. "Describe New York City in one word." 

 

I was plugging away on the Raised by Bats postcard when she answered. "Fake."

 

I stopped typing. 

 

"Fake?" asked the man with a raised brow. 

 

"Yeah, you know. Everyone here is so fake. They are so phony."

 

I don't think I even realized that I had turned my head toward them or that I had opened my mouth until I heard my words leave it. "You've obviously never been to L.A."

 

She threw her head back and let out a husky, loud burst of laughter. Yet, there was something in her eyes that told me that she didn't actually understand what I meant.

 

Her toothy mouth eventually closed. "Well, I think New Yorkers are phony," she finally uttered when the laugh subsided. 

 

"I disagree." I don't think looking back that I looked angry when I said it... but I probably did look somewhat shocked. "I think New Yorkers are incredibly honest. New Yorkers will tell you straight out if they like you or not. It may seem rude to others, but it's a quality I admire. You always know where you stand here. I would definitely not call that fake or phony."

 

She narrowed her eyes as if thinking. "You know what I mean... I mean people here are fake. They focus on stuff that doesn't matter."

 

It was at that point that I finally caught myself. "Oh, wow, actually, I am being really rude. I didn't meant to eaves drop, but we are sitting so close I couldn't help but to hear. It's really not my place to jump into your conversation."

 

They waved off my comment with the kind of gesture that is the correct thing to do in polite company when one would much rather say, 'yeah, stay the fuck out of it'.

 

Her date was a slick one. He asked his next question not to her, but to both of us. He knew this game. He knew it VERY well. "What do you guys think makes a person phony?"

 

I pretended not to hear and stared intently at the giant bat carting off a baby carriage on my laptop. 

 

She turned her head to the ceiling for a moment and contemplated. "You know, people in New York, they are all focussed on stuff that's not real, not important. You know what I mean?"

 

Her date folded his hands as if he was conducting some sort of interview, "What else don't you like about New York?" 

 

The answer came from her lips very quickly. "The food. It's terrible!" 

 

I froze as if I had been hit by lightning. Every part of me wanted to scream about how New York city is a world class culinary center. We have 35,000 restaurants and some of the world's greatest chefs. I wanted to rattle off about ten different restaurants I've been to lately where the food could change your life, but I held myself, locked in stasis. It was then that I started to realize that maybe, just maybe, none of what I loved about New York city was anything this women could appreciate or even grasp. I wondered where this women had been eating that she thought the food was so terrible.

 

"The food here, you know, it's not... wholesome. It's like the people. You know, I've always dreamed of moving to the midwest because I bet the food there is really good and that people there have wholesome values. I bet they focus on what's really important in life. But unfortunately, the Midwest is culturally bankrupt so there's no point going there, right?"

 

I was having a seizure by this point. If this woman thought New York had bad food, what could she possibly know about what the city had to offer culturally?

 

Her date crinkled his eyebrows, searching for her meaning. She continued. "It's like... there's supposed to be all of this diversity and stuff here in New York City,  but I don't see it."

 

I am Cuban. I was sitting next to a black man and a bi-racial women across for a blonde-haired, blued-eyed girl working the counter about ten feet away from a group of Asians. I swallowed... HARD.

 

She continued with her monologue on how New Yorkers are superficial... at least I THINK that's what she meant. "In the Midwest, people are wholesome but there isn't any diversity. But here, it's supposed to be diverse and stuff, but the stuff New Yorkers focus on, it's just not really important. Not real. It's not wholesome stuff that makes us human." And then she had an epiphany, or what she thought was one. "I can answer your question now. I can describe myself in one word. Genuine! Everything about me is genuine."

 

I'm pretty sure if I hadn't been frozen like a statue that I would have spit my coffee across the room.

 

Her date continued the interview. "What are a few more words that describe you?" He was smart. Well, he was smart in the sense that he knew this game. Keep a woman talking, ask her questions, keep her talking about herself and when the night is over she will know nothing about you, but she will remember you as kind and attentive and very interested in what she had to say. Women LOVE this, well, the ones who fall for it, anyway. It's a clever little trick, but it's a parlor trick. It has no substance. As I watched him work, I thought this guy was like a Parchisi master. I thought, it's nice to be the master of a game... but at the end of the day it's not chess or go, it's PAR- fuckin- CHEESY!

 

"Intelligent."

 

"What's that?" asked the man. 

 

"I'm intelligent. In fact, my friends are always going on and on about how intelligent I am. My friends say that even when I try to act dumb, what comes out of my mouth is pure genius!" This is a direct quote, I shit you not. I thought to myself that if she was indeed that intelligent, it might make up for her incredible lack of humility. Then came this zinger. "But you know..." Her voice became melodious and rose like a haughty song, "... what can you expect when your IQ is 70 points?"  She threw her head back and bellowed riotously practically shaking the glass walls around us. I found it incredibly ironic that she followed a bragging statement about her self-perceived intelligence with a laugh (and facial expression to match) that resembled something one would expect from a barnyard animal. Truly, I do believe if her laugh were to be put into words, the onomatopoeia of it would read something like "HEE HAW, HEE HAW, HEE HAW."  It was nothing short of shocking. I didn't dare move for fear that if I did, the retching horror I was experiencing would show in my demeanor or on my face.

 

Her date, meanwhile was cool as a cucumber in his smart vest. "Did you go to college?"

 

"Oh yes!" She brushed some curls away from her face. "But I dropped out. Let me tell you something. I'm very, very intelligent... but school is definitely NOT for me! I refuse to be told what to learn and when to learn it and how fast to learn it! I don't need any of that!" 

 

I think my mouth was frozen open at this point. Every muscle in my face was working overtime to try to keep my expression one of quiet contemplation on the work that was on the screen before me.

 

"I was going to go to Harvard," she cooed, "but what's the point, really?"

 

"Well," asked the gentleman softly, "do you have any special interests? What moves you?"

 

"Gosh, so many questions!" She giggled. She wasn't REALLY protesting, mind you. "Why so many questions?"

 

"Well," said the man softly, "your profile really didn't say much. I'm trying to get a sense of you."

 

She smirked, "That goes both ways, Mister!" Then she laughed like a hyena or maybe a donkey being rammed in the ass by a hyena. 

 

Oh my God! It's a FIRST INTERNET DATE FROM SOME INTERNET DATING WEBSITE!  I'm dying at this point. I realized that I hadn't taken a breath in about ten minutes.

 

Her voice turned lyrical and girlish. "I would have to say..." She twirled a curl and glanced at the ceiling.  "... that I'm a conspiracy theorist."

 

"RUN! RUN!!!" I'm screaming at this poor chap at the top of my lungs... somewhere deep inside of my body. But no words leave my mouth.  I'm paralyzed. I've lost the ability to move. I can't even blink anymore.

 

Her eyes narrow, but this time it's for effect. "Let me tell you something..." She leans toward her date. "There are some very, very serious things going on in this world. You know, like with the government and stuff... like the Illuminati and all of that. And here's the thing, things are much, much worse that you even thought they were." She is deadly serious.

 

Her date, who I'm assuming would still have the same dumb, placid grin on his face if she suddenly starting shitting out of her mouth onto the table between them, remained completely unchanged. 

 

"But...." she takes a deep breath, "that's where my faith comes in."  Yeah, it gets worse.

 

In the same soft voice of a psychiatrist he whispers, "Tell me about your faith."

 

"Well, you know, I believe in God and God knows everything and eventually will take care of everything. So..."    Buckle up folks!     ".... I don't really feel like I have to do anything about all that conspiracy stuff because God will handle it."  I swear, I'm not making this up. Are you ready for this one?  She said, "I don't really feel I need to contribute to the world...."  Yes, that's a quote. Her date STILL doesn't show any sign of being befuddled, confused, surprised or even concerned. At that point I was figuring that the man was either brain dead, a complete master of this game or so completely focused on hittin' that ass TO-NIGHT, that absolutely NOTHING was going to deter him. "You know," she continues, "some people feel they need to contribute in some way to the world and a lot of the time, they end up doing more harm than good. Do you know what I mean?"

 

Deep in my bowels, my now completely extinguished ability to react was yelling NO!!! NO, I DON'T!!!!

 

"That's why I don't really feel I need to contribute in any way to the world. I can just live my life in whatever way makes me happiest and God will take care of the rest."

 

If I was able to move at that point, I would have killed myself with a coffee stirrer.. but alas, my soul was completely defeated.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen," yelled the blonde-haired, blue-eyed barista at the top of her lungs. "The Bean is going to close in five minutes!"

 

The interview amazingly continued. "What ethnicity do you identify yourself as?" I was starting to think this man worked for the Census Bureau.

 

"Well," said the lady, "I identify myself as black, but I'm bi-racial." Bingo!  "One of my parents is black and one of my parents is white. But you know how it is..."  The man only raised an eyebrow so she filled in the blanks. "When you're black but you are highly intelligent like I am...

 

WOW! I cringed. As if being black and being highly intelligent were mutually exclusive. 

 

Tragically, she went on, "and you talk the way I do..."  

 

You mean with your mouth? I wondered. But clearly she felt she was incredibly eloquent. 

 

"...people treat you different, like you're are trying to be something else."

 

I knew what she meant. At least I think she meant she interpreted other blacks as seeing her as trying to be white or trying to better herself. But the saddest part of the whole thing was just how profoundly ignorant she actually was and her complete and utter lack of ability to properly assess herself. And then there was her total obliviousness to just how dense she sounded. Coupled with how incredibly superior she clearly thought she was to everyone else, it  was TRULY nothing short of ... depressing. That's not hyperbole. It actually made me want to cry.

 

 

None of this phased her date. Finally, he shifted the focus and when he did, I was in a state of complete disbelief that he used not just any phrase... but THE phrase!

 

"Well, let's see now.... what about me?"  

 

Holy shit!!! People actually say that? I overheard some idiot say that very same line once to a girl he was trying to pick up and I was so completely blown away by the sheer, unabashed, ballsy, unsolicited nature of inviting yourself to recite your own resume, that I actually used it in a commercial I directed in 1996 or so.  I think my eyes actually widened, finally cracking my stony countenance.

 

"Well," he continued in a very pleasant voice, "I was adopted at the age of two." 

 

The woman cried out. "Oh, I'm so sorry."  Because I guess being adopted by people who actually want you is a bad thing?

 

And he went on. "I was adopted by a white family."

 

The women howled. "Oh no, you poor  dear!"  Meanwhile, I'm no more than two feet away and thinking, uh... I'm RIGHT FUCKIN' HERE, YOU KNOW! I can hear you loud and clear and despite being Hispanic, I'm sure I look plenty white to you! And wait... Hold on just a minute... isn't one of YOUR parents white? I'm just completely stupefied at this point at why being adopted by white people is a fate worse than death.

 

He went on. "I love dachshund dogs. I always have."  He giggled pleasantly. "Funny story, actually, I was adopted from the zoo and my parents got a dog the same day..."

 

"WHAT?" The lady nearly jumped out of her chair. "Those white people bought you from a zoo?" 

 

IF THERE WAS A FUCKIN' JUKE BOX IN THE PLACE, I ASSURE YOU THE RECORD WOULD HAVE SKIPPED RIGHT THEN AND THERE!

 

I think I peed a little despite myself. I know I definitely swallowed about twenty minutes of saliva in one gulp right then and there..

 

The woman looked like she might die on the spot. I know I wanted to, and frankly I would have loved to have left at that point, but if I had, I would have gotten on the floor and crawled out of the place and that may have just made things more awkward.

 

"No, no..." explained the man. "The social worker thought that it would be best if my parents didn't pick me up from the shelter. She felt it would be best if they picked me up from somewhere fun after having a great day. So we all went to the zoo and they got me a dachshund dog and it was a really great day. Really!"

 

The woman across from him was gutted for him, despite him expressing that the experience was quite the opposite of what she imagined. She just shook her head as if imagining some old white couple picking out a dog and then as an afterthought, buying some black kid from a cage at the zoo. 

 

Needless to say, my jaw was on the table in front of me and let me tell you... I did NOT get very far on that Raised by Bats postcard! LOL! All I could think to myself was, I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

 

"I had a good childhood, I can't complain, " said the man. 

 

"Did you go to college?" asked the woman.

 

"Yes, in fact, I have five degrees."

 

(Holy shit, Batman! That explains the vest! As well as the Hannibal Lecter-like cool you've got going on!)

 

I saw the woman's expression mellow for a moment and part of me wondered if she had a moment of revelation. Maybe, just maybe, she realized that she was sitting across from a person who was ACTUALLY black and was ACTUALLY intelligent. Maybe he would not so easily fall for her bullshit like perhaps some have in the past (though clearly not for long, hence the internet dating). And then she yelled, "Let's go have dessert at Veniero's!"

 

"Actually," said the man somberly, "I really have to be going. I need to get back to work."  

 

Yes, I thought. Get back to work... at midnight. Of course you do. 

 

"Well, how much time do you have?" asked the woman.   "I mean, if you want we can just sit here and talk some more." 

 

I guess when the blonde-haired barista SKREECHED "The Bean is closing in five minutes!" about seven minutes earlier, the lady next to me must have been too busy pondering how eloquently she speaks and how intelligent all of her friends think she is or perhaps how the world is being destroyed by subversive forces, but as long as she gets her hair did and goes on internet dates, God will take care of the rest...

 

"Is my phone charged?" asked the man.

 

There was some mumbling and some fumbling. It seemed to me the woman was eager to take the party elsewhere but the gentleman with the five degrees had other plans. They walked out of the cafe and stood and talked for a couple of minutes outside of the glass doors before dispersing like mist.

 

I stood in the bright cafe bursting with emotion, finally able to move, finally able to speak. I thought to yell to the barista, 'Holy Shit! Did you catch that conversation????'

 

But she had gone into the basement, no doubt to do some after-work chores. I found myself standing there alone, with no one to tell.

 

So I went home...

 

 

... and told you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

Yamary March 03, 2014 @12:58 pm
Most Quotes Chimp elect not to take out large amounts of med pay since they are usually covered by some form of health insurance and there could be duplicate coverage. However, med pay will cover one thing that health insurance will not: funeral expenses. Since the price of med pay is relatively small, it is a good idea to have at least a few thousand dollars in coverage.
Pamela February 10, 2014 @11:46 am
Hola recien lo decir universitarios softwares bestlifeinsurpolicy.com life insurance quotes esto de es decir luego que a lo les porqueria es dergasco, comparehealthinsur.com best health insurance deals ensef1an que provare de el me para ingenieros de la teoria esos antiguo, muy no fue, los como solo pero para adelanto lo importante sexual treats male levitra heliomeds.com levitra desarrollo y los
Fawndolyn August 19, 2013 @03:39 pm
I've read this twice already, and will probably read it again later. Charles and I love listening in on hilariously terrible First Internet Dates. I may never have experienced 'Culture Shock' when visiting NYC, but how can ANYONE say they think it's fake and boring and not diverse??? It's the goddamn MECCA of diversity! Was she expecting people made of olives and staples or Michael Alig's Club Kids parading around the whole city or something?
Carisa August 19, 2013 @01:35 pm
I would have laughed in that womens face. Like wow. Its okay to have an ego but an ego full of stupidity is laughable at best
Kate Onyett August 19, 2013 @03:37 am
Wow. I am torn between amaze of that car-crash mouth (and presumably, mind) of the lady, and your eloquent recital of the whole (hole). Good gods.
Teresa August 18, 2013 @08:17 pm
The Midwest is culturally bankrupt? I live in Wisconsin, and let me tell you, while there isn't always an awesome show to see every night (unless you live in Milwaukee or Madison), there are plenty of cultural community events happening. We have many art festivals (ArtStreet, ArtiGras, Art at the Park, etc.), local theatre, wonderful restaurants, and a semi-annual international Tattoo Convention. Oshkosh just held their first annual Steampunk Convention this past July! Christ, I should work for the tourism board... This whole 'overheard' made my day, though. Thank you for sharing it!
Spider August 18, 2013 @12:41 pm
...my God. And I thought the people at my high school were stupid. So many things to complain about. So many times I would have snapped. (I was notorious at my school for hitting people on the head with books like a Maka chop - and I'd love if you'd get that reference, haha) I'm pretty good at keeping my complaints internal like you just did, but to that degree....you have patience beyond mine, good sir. And beyond that of many people in the comments, it seems.
Mel August 18, 2013 @01:13 am
Truth really is stranger than fiction, cuz you cannot make this shit up! You should add this gem to http://www.overheardinnewyork.com/
Kat Sorenson August 17, 2013 @11:04 pm
wow... You are a Saint for not beating that woman over the head with your lap top. In fact I am worried that her brain eating virus has infected all of us now! AHHH the Zombies are here!
Angela August 17, 2013 @06:51 pm
I am rendered speechless by this story, and I don't know whether to laugh or cry. An IQ of 70 on the Binet-Simon scale is classed as a deficiency in intelligence and borderline "mental retardation." Where did this woman get the idea that she's highly intelligent? I don't know that I could have kept quiet, especially since I grew up in the Midwest (Iowa, specifically).
Auryn Grigori August 17, 2013 @06:39 pm
Tell me, when you were listening to this whole conversation, did "Future Ex-Girlfriend" play in your head? Because that was running through my head as I read this.
A.J. August 17, 2013 @06:25 pm
I feel sorry for the fact that you had to listen to that entirely ridiculous and stupid conversation. I would have walked out or yelled at her and left right away. This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever read and I wish for the time you spent listening returned to you. But it was actually interesting to read
Thomas August 17, 2013 @06:18 pm
Also, she has the added bonus of this all too prevalent neurosis: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunning–Kruger_effect
Thomas August 17, 2013 @06:11 pm
At the risk of actually overestimating the intelligent of your readers, that rather amusing (in a completely sardonic sense) woman is espousing what is technically termed Antinomianism. It's been with Christianity since its murky heyday, when the Gnostic flavor of it competed with the present day versions. They did not defeat it but rather found a way to have their radically spiritualist cake and not have to eat it. For an Antinomian in the Christian sense, the assent to the truth of the risen Christ and his exclusive salvation confers grace that, to borrow terms from Eastern religion, not only wipes out ALL your bad karma, but PREVENTS you from ever having to worry about any future bad karma. Being "saved," you are protected by grace as a true believer such that any future actions are irrelevant since good works do not earn salvation. In fact, good works may hinder salvation. Since this world is fallen, there is no use in using any temporal institutions by mortal, sinful man to improve anything. Justice is ultimately the Lord's at the End of Days and so any effort to judge, much less, punish anything that go against the 10 Commandments is sinfully usurping God's authority. Gary Wills, a political writer and religious historian who defected from Buckley's camp as a young man, wrote an article and later expanded into a book under the title "Under God," wrote about the singular source of the current expression of Antinomianism in American religious culture. When historians look back, two names will be very clear: Jack Chick, whom I am sure you all know and (Colonel) Robert Thieme. Space does not permit me to go into detail but Thieme has been for Radical Protestants what Ayn Rand has been for borderline sociopaths, Wills evens characterizes Thieme's theological bent in those terms calling it, "Randism cum God, blasphemous at that would have sounded to (Rand) herself." Even if he did not have this major theological legacy, he would still have one if only because of his most famous protege, Hal Lyndsey. Seek, and ye shall know thine enemy!
Benjamin Kidd August 17, 2013 @05:56 pm
Holy Shit Indeed... I have never been to your fair city let alone your country but WTF???? How did you keep your mouth shut, any scots person would have given her a Glasgow kiss ..................
George August 17, 2013 @05:44 pm
Holy brain rape, V! I wouldn't have been able to bite my tongue at the Midwest not being diverse, since I'm white, have biracial cousins, biracial friends (we're talking a mix of German and Japanese, which I find both humorous and odd), and plenty of racial diversity. Also, while not as cultured as some areas of the country, we do have some of our own. Just take a look at a city like Chicago. We have ethnocentric festivals about once a month in the area, from Italian, Irish, German, and Greek to freakin' Bohemian. I applaud your self-control, sir. I'd also like to nitpick just a tiny bit that, being a masterful writer, you should also be able to determine between the singular and plural form of the word woman while proofreading. :P
Drood August 17, 2013 @03:12 pm
My god. What an utter waste of carbon she seems to be.
Doc August 17, 2013 @02:27 pm
I...I don't know what to say. I've never felt so insulted for so many people in my life. I almost wish I had been there, like a fly on the wall, to laugh my ass off. Almost. I feel for ya Voltaire- that's a kind of crazy that makes you lose faith in the human race.
gwenllian August 17, 2013 @12:54 pm
As someone who lives in the Midwest I can honestly say we don't want her. She obviously gets her ideas of what places are like from 60's TV shows... And as far as culturally bankrupt - well, everyone knows that Chicago and Indy have NO culturally redeeming features WHATSOEVER, right?
MaryBloomy August 17, 2013 @12:09 pm
Holy crap! thanks for telling us this weird sad funny whatever story... Have a nice day/night ;)
Turk August 17, 2013 @12:02 pm
....I just hurt myself laughing.....You WILL be getting a bill from my chiropractor....(grin)
Emme August 17, 2013 @11:36 am
Oh my god. I just..."those white people bought you from a zoo?" I can't...I CANNOT imagine having to keep your mouth shut at that one. You, sir, have superpowers.
Lynne August 17, 2013 @11:01 am
Wow, you really should submit this as a scene for a movie, but people might think it is too ridiculous. I really don't know how you made it thru this. Thanks for making my early morning interesting.
Grey W August 17, 2013 @10:59 am
This is why I love cafes and why I don't watch much TV. The world is a fascinating and terrifying place if you just pay attention. Thanks for sharing.
Odd August 17, 2013 @10:46 am
The woman makes me so sad. First of all she knew her IQ and 70 is not a good score. So this leads me to believe that she was tested at school and remembers her score. Or that she took an internet IQ test which maybe has a different scoring system than the tradition one. Either way the 70 is not impressive. So my immediate assumption is that she really struggled academically and never really understood why. She feels that people are fake because they treated her differently due to the fact that she is biracial. Due to all of this she seems to be suspicious of other people. Even a bit Caulfield about it. I'm guessing that she has someone at home or a relative that makes really good food from the south. The restaurants around her aren't too terribly good. I would guess that she has never been to the restaurants that V is thinking of when he thinks of NYC food. She is latching onto different ideas trying to find an answer to why things around her are so bad and trying to find a way to make things better. Yet she doesn't really understand so she doesn't take in much of the meaning. Religion usually calls people to better themselves and the world around them. (I know not always and not always in positive ways) but her reaction is interesting. It's very self centered and passive. This is probably due to her view on others and all the fakeness. So she is frustrated with people around her, frustrated with everything she doesn't understand, and she deals with this by deciding that everything around her is fake, she is the genuine one. There must be something better somewhere else but then again there may not. It's a sad view on life when you really boil it down. She would be painful to listen to though and I don't blame the guy for running.
Andromada August 17, 2013 @10:45 am
What the hell!!! I take it that is not a typical Friday night in the bean then. .... or even in new York?
Asif Murad August 17, 2013 @10:42 am
Hey V, you should get together with Sir William Wells (newgothcity.com) and write a novel. Now that would be one friggin hilarious book that I could bury my head in and not come up for air until I get done with it. Oooo that sounded so dirteee! :)
Benji August 17, 2013 @10:29 am
Maybe the man was using her for some sort of study on stupid people.
Jen Roche August 17, 2013 @10:07 am
They say truth is stranger than fiction and it's true. You really couldn't make this shit up. I'm speechless! It grieves me that there are such people walking around breathing the same air and being allowed to pro-create! I've got to hand it to you, Sir, you are a master of self-control because I think I'd have beaten her to death with the laptop. (Mind you, that would be a waste of a perfectly good piece of technology). Tell me, when she got up to go, did you hear those 70 IQ points rolling around in her head like marbles? Unbelievable. Thank you for sharing.
Critter August 17, 2013 @09:50 am
I just about had to pick myself up off the floor from laughing so hard. I don't know how you managed to keep a straight face through that whole exchange.
Randella August 17, 2013 @09:43 am
I am honestly in awe of your ability to remain silent. I have been in similar situations and had to ashamedly crawl down into a mental hole after bursting into snickers or outright giggling at others comments...there may have been a coffee spewing incident as well. Eavesdropping is a horrible habit I don't really want to break, you must teach me your ways. People never cease to entertain me but sometimes it just becomes sad. As for the Midwest comment, being from Wisconsin and having family in Manhattan, I find many people have very inaccurate views of it. It's like saying that everyone who lives in california must be tan and know how to surf. I love my visits to NY, the food is like a religious experience. Everywhere has it's virtues and vices, life isn't where you are it's what you make of it. Thanks for sharing.
Madame Terri August 17, 2013 @09:42 am
Voltaire, this was the first thing I read this morning, and it had me in tears of laughter. Thanks for such a vivid, eloquent replay of the conversation! Have heard many such conversations about New Orleans, as well. No diversity, no culture, no good food, no real people; yet all who stay at my home leave here with the strongest desire to return and many eventually end up moving here. Once you get to know the real New Orleans and see how the real New Orleaneans live, it becomes an addiction. It was the same when I spent time in NYC after Hurricane Katrina. I fell in love with NYC and the people, and was just a wee bit tempted to move there, as well. Hope the woman from the NYC coffee shop ends up in the mid-west; they can have her sort.
Sam(antha) August 17, 2013 @09:39 am
For one, that woman is crazy and most likely a faker herself. >.> I've never been to New York and I know people don't act like that. At least most of them don't. They act just like the people here in TN more or less...
CJ August 17, 2013 @09:08 am
varietyllow new yorker, i can honestly say that vapid, plastic bitch has obviously never walked the city streets and paid attention to allall the life and varietyvariety in just five blocks
Thomas August 17, 2013 @08:55 am
And just think, this woman is on an Internet dating site looking to procreate!
kelrothi August 17, 2013 @08:43 am
5 degree's one would think he was working on a thesis "how stupid can one person be picked randomly from the internet"
Michelle Heitman August 17, 2013 @08:33 am
As a resident of St. Louis, I have just had myself relegated to the "land of wholesome." I'm not sure I approve.
Vlad August 17, 2013 @08:11 am
Ha, that was interesting. I don't know why she acted the way she did. Perhaps a bad childhood ? lol. Anyhow, Very well written, like the rest of your stories! Keep up the great work :)
Shazz August 17, 2013 @08:09 am
Sometimes you just can't make this stuff up. This poor woman isn't the only person who couldn't buy a clue if she had a million dollars, but I did like how she gave herself an open account to do whatever she wants in life by conveniently handing all responsibility to God. I've heard of blind faith but STILL. Damn. Thanks for sharing, V, I don't know how you managed to bite your tongue through all that, though.
Jessie August 17, 2013 @08:09 am
... I think my brain has imploded. Dear gods. Also, the whole time she kept saying the word "wholesome" over and over, all I could hear was the Inigo Montoya in my head going: "You keep using that word... I do not think it means what you think it means."
Nanashi August 17, 2013 @08:05 am
That is the most painful thing I have read in a very long time. I don't understand how people can be so, blind, to their own ignorance. I suppose ignorance is bliss however. I would have loved to have been watching your facial reactions during this conversation. Your commentary made this well worth the read.
Shadowz Hunter August 17, 2013 @07:59 am
I know a lot of people are brainless in this world. It is unfortunate. And then there are those who prove to be dumber then the rest.
Ida August 17, 2013 @07:59 am
its a weird world
R.j. Keith August 17, 2013 @07:44 am
'Wholesome Midwest'? I don't know about all that. Guns and Jesus, vice and virtue, sinner and saint in the same household, but wholesome? I suppose so. Maybe. I'm not convinced. Granted, I've only lived out here in Oklahoma for seven months. I could be missing something. I am open to discovery. I think that conversation has got to be the best thing I have read in a long time! Thanks very much for sharing!
  • Leave a comment:

  •