It was Saturday night and I was eating a full pasta dinner by myself at a restaurant where my friend works in Williamsburg.*
As with most of my solo-dining experiences, I was more than a little buzzed, frantically typing “Harriet the Spy”-esque notes on my iPhone with traces of marinara sauce on my face.
“It’s my birthday, bitches!” a 30-something year-old man in khakis slurred to an old couple at an adjoining table.
"I need to buy my pants bigger because my dick’s so big. Like I need more room for my balls."
(to the older couple) “Why didn’t you guys and my mom and dad just get a room at the Wythe Hotel and kick it Brooklyn style?!”
Soon another bro with black slicked-back hair and a paisley pocket square walked outside accompanied by a cheetah-print clad woman in her late 50’s.
"Ooh maybe I’ll join her!”, he full-voice whispered to his frost-tipped companion, motioning to me, to which she replied loudly, “Yeah, not my cup of tea.”
"Come on, Mom!" he said.
Now I was intrigued.
"No, I just don’t like women," she continued. "I’m a woman. I know how they are. I really don’t fucking like them. I really disdain them."
"Hey Tina/Tammi/Bernice!", I wanted to say, "Hey. Yeah, you. Come over here. Wanna ‘Lady and The Tramp’ this pasta with me? I swear we’re not all bad…"
Just then, my friend Asher showed up with some of the birthday boy’s stolen party favors including a pedophilic melange of Bourbon-flavored lollipops, Chinese finger traps and Play-Doh.
After watching full grown men lick lollipops for 20 minutes I ran to the bathroom where, as fate would have it, Tina/Tammi/Bernice and I met again.
There were so many questions I wanted to ask her like:
"Were you at Woodstock?"
"What actually is a placenta?"
”Where’d you get that top? TJ?”
But instead I said, “Is that your son over there?” motioning to the paisley bro.
"Yes," she smiled, "I have some magic ovaries."
And I said, “I bet you do Tammi, I bet you do.”
And she said, “What?? My name is Evelyn.”
And I said, “Shhhh. You’re all the same.”
JUST EAT THE FOOD
* Much like this man, only not as endearing: