**
Walking past a bar on the way to dinner, an old woman seated in a chair grabs my arms and demands, “Are you Matt Labash?”
I explain that no, I’m not.
She replies angrily, “Well why not?”
There follows an attempt by me to introduce myself and make nice. I ask where they’re from. She tells me Seattle. But that she’s really from the Isle of Rhodes.
Woman: You’re probably too young to know what the Spanish Inquisition is.
Me [laughing]: Oh, I’m Catholic. I know all about it. It was one of our finest moments.
Woman [angrily]: Well my family was from Spain, but in 1400, you people drove my family away and we had to move to Rhodes.
I excused myself to get to the dining room for dinner.
Woman: It was very nice meeting you, Matt. We really enjoyed your book.
**
At dinner, as I sit down:
Woman: Your picture in the program makes you look so handsome, like John Travolta.
Me: laughs
Woman [disappointedly]: You don’t look anything like John Travolta.
**
During the main course, a man asks me why the Standard doesn’t have a letters page. I tell him that we used to, but don’t anymore. That some magazines, like Commentary and CRB have lively letters sections, but that others, like the New Yorker, do not.
Man: The New Yorker? That’s the worst magazine in America. It’s terrible.
Me: You think so? I’d judge it to be the best and most important magazine in America.
Man: Well you’re wrong.
Walking past a bar on the way to dinner, an old woman seated in a chair grabs my arms and demands, “Are you Matt Labash?”
I explain that no, I’m not.
She replies angrily, “Well why not?”
There follows an attempt by me to introduce myself and make nice. I ask where they’re from. She tells me Seattle. But that she’s really from the Isle of Rhodes.
Woman: You’re probably too young to know what the Spanish Inquisition is.
Me [laughing]: Oh, I’m Catholic. I know all about it. It was one of our finest moments.
Woman [angrily]: Well my family was from Spain, but in 1400, you people drove my family away and we had to move to Rhodes.
I excused myself to get to the dining room for dinner.
Woman: It was very nice meeting you, Matt. We really enjoyed your book.
**
At dinner, as I sit down:
Woman: Your picture in the program makes you look so handsome, like John Travolta.
Me: laughs
Woman [disappointedly]: You don’t look anything like John Travolta.
**
During the main course, a man asks me why the Standard doesn’t have a letters page. I tell him that we used to, but don’t anymore. That some magazines, like Commentary and CRB have lively letters sections, but that others, like the New Yorker, do not.
Man: The New Yorker? That’s the worst magazine in America. It’s terrible.
Me: You think so? I’d judge it to be the best and most important magazine in America.
Man: Well you’re wrong.
**
This, by the way, is par for the course. This is tame, actually. During my three evenings there, I was never asked a single question, but was hit on several times by the gentlemen to my left, whose wives were invariably to their left (though rarely, sadly, to their political left -- now that would have been interesting). One, upon finding out I went to Smith (I had to keep myself entertained--and awake--by throwing gauntlets like "Northampton!" and "Everyone running in the GOP primary is a clown --let's shake things up and write in a candidate!" Poor Jonathan.) immediately lowered his voice and asked me all about, you know, the hot girl-on-girl action at Smith, my opinions of it, and whether or not I participated. It was awesome. I told him the lingerie-clad pillow fights were everything he ever dreamed about, and more. And that they probably even happened in the library, where I spent most of my time, but who could say?
And I'm a Republican! Sort of.
2 comments:
I love this.
Ew. :)
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