Frieda shamed me at bingo today for not sitting next to her. I deliberately sat with one of the catatonics because I was tired as fuck and didn't feel like talking to anyone.
Frieda's a sweetheart but she's a shitload of effort. You feel like you're ministering to JLo. I want a napkin. I want water. Repeat the number. Repeat the number again. Move my foot. I don't like blue chips, I like red chips. Gimme my sweater. Scratch my back.
It's not that way with the catatonics. You just sit, smile broadly every 10 minutes and make an attempt to communicate. They will not respond to your attempt to communicate and when the caller calls their numbers you lay the chips down.
I always thought those folks stay that way forever, but today there was something hopeful. This Cantonese lady, Mei Lin, was awake and looking around and laying a shitload of chips down on her card. They didn't call any of the numbers, but it was good to see her doing something instead of staring into space with her mouth open. At one point she kept pointing frantically at my purse and saying something in Cantonese.
I hate being unable to fulfill a request, so I opened my purse and removed the only item that could possibly be entertaining: The National Enquirer. I read select portions to Mei while she pointed at the pictures. She was particularly fixated on this one picture of Kirsten Dunst. Also Will Smith and ads for brasseries.
What else happened this weekend? OH. I looked through my sent messages and realized I had sent a message to a friend turning him down for a drink because:
The salary and benefits are so-so, but there's Starbucks coffee in the coffeemaker and they give you RIMJOBS!
The other thing was this argument on Avenue A between this Latino girl and her boyfriend. She was screaming at him and a crowd had gathered 'round. This story doesn't need any further embellishment, so I'll just give you the dialogue straight up:
His penis has no emotion, everyone. Myself, I like my penises stoic. I don't want them to start crying during sex and talking about their roommate that fell off a balcony in Myrtle Beach during Spring Break and unfulfilled dreams of being a glassblower. I guess a joyful penis is OK though. ALL PENISES SHALL MAKE YE A JOYFUL NOISE UNTO THE LORD.