Friday, July 15, 2005

Suck This

I'm on the train on the way home from work (work by the most academic definition; I read CraigsList for three hours, talked to my boss about having bats in her house, and drank a cup of Lipton’s) and I have a large baguette penis.

I acquired my whole wheat phallus because I choose the wrong bag at every possible juncture. This morning I threw my brand new computer in a stylish yet completely permeable houndstooth shoulder bag and left the office to find it just barely beginning to rain. Very fortunately, they’re doing some work on the huge building on the corner so I could dodge the droplets under some scaffolding and slip onto the C train across the street. Taking that train instead of my usual one lets me skip ten rainy outdoor blocks, but it makes my whole trip a little longer and necessitates taking the shuttle from Times Square, the worst of all forms of transportation. I’m including both family station wagon to Florida and junior high school bus in that estimation. However, I did get to sit next to an extraordinarily good looking fella on the C, so I don’t really have the right to moan.

But back to my bread dick: once I got to Grand Central I tried unsuccessfully to find a free plastic bag to protect my laptop. The next best thing was finding something I could purchase with the three dollars in my wallet that would need to be packaged in a plastic bag big enough to transfer my computer into. There were surprisingly few options. I couldn’t afford a whole Junior’s cheesecake, or a shirt, or a decorative mirror from the shop with all of the decorative lamps, and decorative vases, and decorative mirrors. Finally I noticed someone walking around with an obscene loaf of bread, and tracked down a reasonable $2.15 whole wheat baguette which the cashier ever so kindly wrapped in a Hot and Crusty plastic bag.

Which leaves me with a safe laptop, but also a huge loaf of bread propped between my legs because there’s no room on the train to do anything else with it. I could probably handle flaccid baked goods with more grace, but this thing is really unwieldy.

Despite the stares I’m getting from my fellow passengers, and the way that mothers are ushering their children past me with more than the usual hustle, I think this baguette erection hasn’t been a total bust. Should I ever be asked to develop an accurate artistic representation of what it felt like to be on the South Beach Diet, I would instantly know what to do.

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Your life is like Seinfeld, only funnier and with more attractive people.

-Clare

2:22 PM  
Blogger Sepia_Dreams said...

Yes I agree with Clare. Now all you need is a whole wheat dick Nazi and you would blow Seinfeld completely out of the water

-Tiana

12:55 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

August 21 bowery ballroom hurry if you didnt already before you cant anymore

9:57 PM  

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