Friday, June 11, 2010

Shiz that happens in my town

As most of you know, making the transition from Philadelphia to a small New England town wasn't easy for me. Living at the beach certainly has it's charms, but I'll always miss the dive bars, the hipsters, the soft pretzels, and the soul of those Philadelphia city streets. Not to mention, I grew up in a middle-class neighborhood. And my current town is ... not. As one of the only people who hasn't spent my entire life there (these people are OBSESSED), it's easy for me to take a step back to view the absurdity. Sometimes it's awesome. Sometimes it's sad. And sometimes it's downright horrifying. But at the end of the day, you always just have to laugh. Am I right, guys? RIGHT? Just laugh? Guys?

And as such, I've decided to make a new Yellaphant feature: Shiz That Happens In My Pants Town, in which I scour the Tiny Town Gazette in search of anything besides listings of local senior center events and opinions on the weather. I'm looking for the ironic. The ridiculous. The most knee-slapping, jaw-dropping, god gawd are they serious stories that happened in my town.

Just because you live with the townies doesn't mean you can't laugh at them.

Some chick got arrested for driving under the influence of computer cleaner. She didn't have a license either. Which makes sense, because when you're dumb as shit, why not go for gold? Frankly, I'm disappointed she also didn't have a baby riding shotgun without a seatbelt and a trunk full of endangered monkeys she was smuggling to a once-wealthy monkey collector hiding out in his foreclosed mansion in Cape Cod.

Asked if he knows or has heard about whether sniffing computer cleaner is a new trend on the South Shore, Ross said it was new to him.

“I have never heard of it in my life,” he said.

The South Shore prepares itself for an incoming group of temporary exchange students from Spain, France, and China. Meanwhile, Scituate residents prepare their children to see their very first Asian. Program coordinator for the South Shore prides herself that FINALLY someone besides a bunch of rich, white, Irish people are going to call the town home. For the first time. Ever. Residents need not fear, however, they'll all be gone in 19 weeks. Please remain calm.

“The people who are interested have been really excited to do it,” she said. “Others are like, ‘No, thanks. I’ll pass.’”

ED. NOTE: I would like to state for the record of this first edition of Shiz That Happens that I was having a grand ol' time writing this, until I decided to meander on over to the "Opinions" section, where I found the advice column "Dear Michael." And now if you'll excuse me, I need to go fucking kill myself. I hereby bequeath all my shit to whoever wants it. Enjoy.

Dear Michael,

My husband is planning a special date for our upcoming fifth wedding anniversary. We are taking a limo to P.F. Chang’s and then to a comedy club. I was wondering if I could wear jeans to this, or if I needed to be more dressed up?


Jeans or No Jeans?

Dear Jeans,

I would not wear jeans if I were you. Especially because it will be after 5 p.m., and you’ll be in a limo, and P.F. Chang’s is a upscale restaurant. Why not make the experience complete for yourself by dressing up and making it just like when you and your husband starting dating. Give him something to look forward to when you get home, if you know what I mean.


Your Diva Michael

Please someone tell me this is a joke. In theory, this could be a lovely evening: dinner and then a comedy club. But THIS? This is so wrong. I could write an entire blog post about this question and answer alone. Yep. Takin' a limo to P.F. Chang's to celebrate the fifth wedding anniversary. First of all? P.F. CHANG'S? Here is how I imagine the past four wedding anniversaries were spent:

First: McDonald's
Second: Pizza Hut
Third: T.G.I.Friday's
Fourth: Bertucci's

And for the ever-important wood anniversary: P.F. Chang's. Also? Wood: tee hee hee. ANYWAY. I am going to willingly admit that I am a total snob when it comes to where I spend my hard earned paychecks. Not that these establishments have to be nice, per se. Some of my favorite places in the world are hole in the walls with wooden benches and bathrooms that could make a sailor cringe. But they have soul, you see. They have bartenders with sleeves of tattoos and tight black t-shirts that make my heart flutter every time. They have character. And in my mind, it's all about character.

I have a STRICT rule against ever going to bars or restaurants in shopping centers or strip malls. I'd rather french kiss my dog right after he finished licking his own ass than go to a happy hour at bar next to an Office Max, or worse, spend a romantic dinner splitting a bloomin' onion. Also, I'm incredibly judgmental. Tell me that your favorite place to eat is the Outback Steakhouse and I will assume you are an uncultured heathen and treat you as such for the remainder of our limited relationship.

Here's an idea for you, Jeans or No Jeans, how about you save money by skipping the limo and spend the evening somewhere that doesn't have two locations in every city and a section in your grocery store's frozen foods aisle.

And for the record, if you even have to ASK whether you can wear jeans or not, the answer is NO, YOU CAN'T. Put on a fucking dress. GARRRGGH I AM INEXPLICABLY AND ENTIRELY FAR TOO ENRAGED BY THIS. Okay, I'm taking deep breaths. Let's move on.

I take personal offense to "Diva Michael's" answer. He states three, definitive reasons why Jeans should should spare the jeans:

1) It's after 5 p.m.
2) They'll be in a limo
3) "P.F. Chang's is an upscale restaurant"

And I have three, definitive answers for you, Diva Michael.

1) No
2) No
3) You make me want to throw myself off the sea wall into the icy waters below and drown.

And to leave you all with the cherry on top of the but-these-are-my-dress-jeans sundae: "Give him something to look forward to when you get home, if you know what I mean." Yes, Diva Michael, I think we all know what you mean. I think my eyes visibly popped out of my head when I read this. And then I processed the entire question and answer section for a few minutes and threw up in my mouth. Yes, this is a small town. But we're only 40 minutes from Boston. We are not three hours from the closest metropolitan area in bumblebutt Arkansas. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?

I am NEVER reading this paper again.


Falko said...

Outback Steak House is my favorite restaurant... I am glad we have finally set boundaries to all of the sexual tension in our relationship.

Becky Mochaface said...

Read it please! But only write about the Dear Michael letters because there has to be a goldmine of small-towndom that we can make fun of in that Diva Michael's column. And on a sidenote, shouldn't it be Divo Michael instead of Diva? Methinks someone's a little confused.

Bradford Pearson said...

You also gave Diva Michael too much credit: we wrote "P.F. Chang's is A upscale restaurant." You switched it to "an" when you retyped it.

rory said...

Gotta love little towns.
We've got the same stuff- a monthly newsletter crammed full of the beauty of the why we all live here.
It's so mostly exhausting that I mostly don't read it.
Drink anyone?


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