out and about on a saturday night

fresh off my subway photo, i find me kicking myself for not bringing the camera with me out to dinner.

robbo and his lovely wife the bird lady of port chester came down to craptastic queens to get a little tuck on. robbo wanted to come down sooner but the bird lady's dad had open heart surgery so she's been out of town for the last few. thankfully, he's recovering fine. you gotta love modern medical science. either way, we like it when robbo and the bird lady come down, they fun.

which gets to my story. so we all go out to dinner in "town". i joke about such things because we live in a city that is balkanized into little miny principalities which the lowe finds ever so ridiculous because everyone who lives here is a citizen of new york city. then it's broken down into boroughs, which are mini cities. now people whole were born here can tell you what neighborhood they are from. it's kind of a litmus funny test sometimes (we've taught the lowe better in this case) but sometimes if you ask someone where they are from, they will say "brooklyn"(very defensively sometimes). whereas i would ask my friend super mario where he's from and he'll say "greenpoint". funny foot note on that, the lowe brought this woman out for dinner one night and we asked her where she's from. she says, "brooklyn" (defensively, strike one), with a sound that doesn't sound very brooklyn-ee. we follow up with the "where IN brooklyn are you from?". she follows up with carroll gardens. which doesn't really count as strike two but i think the only native brooklynite i know who lived there was rayne o'brian's friend paul and he left for jersey. that said, strike two. then as she loosened up she mentioned that she had to stop home to visit her parents last month and the nice lady follows up with a, "oh, where's home?" she sheepishly admits that she's from tennesee (i think memphis but i'm not sure but i don't want to pack my stories with too many lies). anyway strike 3 yer out. note to folx. it doesn't matter where you come from, you can say. we won't laugh. you don't even have to modify the accent. dan rather didn't and allthough i have no great love for that guy at least he kept it real for texans.

but i'm getting off message. we're walking down austin street and i have to dodge this mother and her two daughters. the older daughter who doesn't look a day over twelve (dressed rather hoochie like but then it IS summer) is rockin' a tanktop that say "relax, bitch". now my man rob once bought a teddy bear for his wife for valentines day that said, "bitch, you is fine" and that's funny but this wasn't so much with the funny. in fact it was more with the sad. why? i can't say. is it sad because this girl has decided to leave all sense of decent behavior to the side of the road or is it sad that her mom let her walk out the door like that? ida know. i hope we raise the boy to be better than that.

—the bastard