1) Outside of a bar in the East Village last night, I was talking to two friends, one of whom happened to be an attractive, voluptuous woman. The other was a young man. My two friends were smoking cigarettes. A short, semi-fat guy marched past us. He was wearing a knit pullover and a white collared shirt, blue jeans, and loafers. He seemed to be a resident either of the Upper East Side, or of the Connecticut suburbs. He turned around and said, with unnecessary assertiveness, "I need a light." As my male friend reached over and lit his cigarette, the guy began to sing, to the tune of the Guns 'N' Roses hit, "Take me down to the Alphabet City, where the grass is green..." He then paused, pulled on his cigarette, pointed at my female friend, and completed the verse: "...and the girls are pretty." He then spun around and walked off.
As my companions finished their cigarettes, we began to chat about academic matters--literary theory, Biblical allusion in Romantic poetry, etc. A severely inebriated man then approached us quickly, and asked if we knew about "Hans John Gammagrodhldjez." The guy was fatter than the first guy, obviously Irish, with a pockmarked face and an expensive but too-big collared shirt stuffed into loose jeans, which were tightly pulled around his belly by a leather belt. He swayed a bit as he spoke.
"Do you mean Hans-Georg Gadamer?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said.
"No," I replied.
He nodded and walked on.
2) Seen on the announcements board outside of a Baptist Church on 6th Ave. in Park Slope Brooklyn: Can't sleep at night? Try counting your blessings.
posted by The Fixin's Bar @ 5:05 PM
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