Waiting to cross the street, minding my own business, a lady sidles up next to me….
Lady: “You really shouldn’t be wearing flip flops in your condition.”
Me: “Thanks for the advice. But I just got a pedicure, so I need the flip flops. I’m walking a total of 2 blocks. I’ll be fine.”
Lady: “Well you should let your nails dry at the salon and then put on better shoes. Walking on the street in flip flops is not safe– for you OR for your baby.”
So anyway that’s why there’s a dead lady on the corner of 90th and 1st.
My doorman gives me a double take (for reference, this is the same doorman who wishes me a safe trip every morning)….
Doorman: “Something’s different.”
Me: “Yeah, I cut off a foot of my hair.”
Doorman (contemplating): “Nah…it’s not that.”
Before my first session with a new client…
Parent (to her kid): “I want you to listen to everything Miss Emily says, because she went to Penn, and if you listen to her, one day you can go to a school like that, too. Wouldn’t that be so great?”
Kid: (blank stare)
BECAUSE HE’S THREE.
Busybody: “So, how’s married life? Have you changed your last name yet?”
Me: “It’s great! No, I haven’t. I’m not sure it’s necessary to legally change it.”
Busybody: “Oh my god really? I couldn’t WAIT to change my name.”
Me: “Ok. Well, to each her own! I mean I’ll informally use Eric’s last name, I’m happy for people to call me Emily Taylor, and to introduce myself that way. Just don’t see the need to go through a legal process. But we’ll see, maybe one day.”
Busybody: “His last name is Taylor? What’s yours?”
Busybody: “Oh, honey. You should change it. Taylor is a great last name– then people won’t know what you are.”
Me (silent, confused pause): “You mean…a Jew?”
Me: (blank stare)
Busybody: “Sometimes it’s just better, in certain circumstances, that people don’t know, you know?”
So now I’m keeping Lerman just to spite you.
I am sitting in a large window nook at Starbucks doing work. The nook is meant for sitting– there is another woman here too, working on her laptop. As we’re typing away, a man walks in with a screaming baby. That’s fine– babies scream. You know what’s NOT fine? When he lay the baby down 6 INCHES FROM MY LAP and changed his shit-filled diaper, right next to my Peach Tranquility tea and half-eaten Kind bar.
Then, AFTER he changed the diaper, he took the baby to the bathroom with him so he could wash his hands, leaving the shit-filled wipes sitting on the ledge, right between me and the other woman.
This begs two questions:
- If you ended up taking the baby into the bathroom with you anyway, and therefore clearly knew there was an available bathroom, why didn’t you just change the baby in there?
- WHAT. THE ACTUAL. FUCK?!
This is a public restaurant. WITH FOOD! People are eating and drinking. You are NOT allowed to whip out a mountain of poop in my face. At least not on purpose!
NYC lost 10 points today.
So did parenthood.
That time I got off the elevator, tried opening my apartment door, started cursing at the key/kicking the door when it wouldn’t open, then almost fell over when, while mid-kick, a man opened the door and angrily asked “MAY I HELP YOU?!”
Not my apartment.
Got off on the wrong floor.
That moment when you know so little about cooking that you have to google image search the kitchen-related engagement gift someone sent you so that you call it the right thing in the thank you note.
Trying really hard to learn all the doormen’s names before Christmas.