Saturday, February 18, 2006

Sometimes You Really Need A Vacation

Dear New York;

I call shenanigans on talking shit about red states until you come down to the Williamsport Quality Inn on a Friday night to have a rum and coke with Lisa the Bartender and her possibly trucker possibly boyfriend. For real. No more "Hey, New York has a Republican mayor and what's next? Mandatory church on Sundays?" until you have a lengthy conversation these two about the new lead singer of INXS while a roomful of middle-agers gets its groove on in knee-length rayon dresses and Dockers to "Takin' Care of Business."

Until I can go to a bar alone in New York and strike up a conversation with the person on the next stool that does not begin with my feet being propositioned for scary, schizophrenic sex, there will be no more jokes about the rest of the country being dumb. Ditto for insinuating that every person who drops the Support the Troops! bomb is an idiot--until you talk to the Maybe Trucker about being a vet, having qualms with the administration, and still trying to find a way to believe in the government.

Also, there should be a mandatory screening process for wearing Motorhead shirts, and Lisa the Bartender gets to issue the licenses.

I'm not converted. In fact, the seriously great time I had at this motel bar didn't change a thing--I hate Bush, I say we should get the hell out of Iraq, I think people who don't believe in gay marriage are wrong, and I'm staunchly pro-choice. And there are still plenty of people, probably just a few miles away, who would want to beat me up for knowing that I vote straight down the Democratic ticket. But these people are the foil to New York's One-Half Nelsons, not the average Blue Stater, as I and a lot of other people are wont to believe when we rarely get outside the greater New York metropolitan area.

It's funny that it took a stupid, grungy motel off PA-15 to remind me that there are whole sections of this country where people will talk to you for reasons besides their uncontrollable need to inform you you need a makeover.

And they will do this over a $2.50 drink.

Squeeze that one in your $10.00 Corona, Gawker.




(For a less militant and pretentious description of these events, go read Brad's entry. I'm punchy, it's late, and he's got a much sweeter natural disposition.)

4 Comments:

Anonymous Rebecca said...

Kathy, I like you. You should move to Minneapolis this summer when we do. That would be good.

12:31 AM  
Anonymous anonymousmom said...

hey, are you saying my btw is pretentious, or that he's less pretentious?

1:41 PM  
Blogger What'sHerFace said...

Less pretentious.

4:04 PM  
Anonymous anonymousmom said...

so anyways, i knew jd would win the inxs thing the first time i happened upon the show. it was the episode where he wouldn't work on a song with his team, but would only work on his own, inifinitely better, song.

now you know the fact that i'm in love with him has nothing at all to do with the way he looks, dontcha?

2:17 PM  

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