areyoulistening

The Starbuck’s Cafe at the Barnes and Noble in White Plains is set up like every other Starbuck’s you’ve seen in a Barnes and Noble. There are a few tables and chairs strewn about that suggest “Hey, dudes. Listen broseph, pump some Fall Out on your tricked out iPod, grab a Venti, double shot, soy vanilla machachinto and fucking get some of that Pysch. homework done.” There are also some more comfortable style chairs up against the backwall by the coffee bar that seem to whisper “Go ahead, close your eyes, take a little nap.” At least that is what I thought they were saying. Apparently they suggested to the old guy sitting next to me to go get the latest issue of Penthouse Forum at 1:45 on a Thursday afternoon and find out what is sexy. There really isn’t anything you can say to a man that thinks something like that is kosher.

Sneaker shopping with your parents when you’re a kid was really just awful. Most of the time you end of getting some weird pair of sneakers that kind of resemble what the other kids are wearing and not what you really wanted. It was a toasty 114 degrees in whatever store you ended up at on Central Ave. She always made you try them on; than your head gets hot and itchy and you end tearing off your winter jacket in a fit of rage. I did get those Jordan’s that had the 23 on the side one year for Christmas and I didn’t have to try them on or or sit through a car ride listening to Hall and Oates on PLJ. You know something, that was the greatest gift of all.

There is a Korova Milk Bar in White Plains now. I went to the one on Ave A a few times and it was always something at that place. One time we went and a crew of lesbians rolled into the bar and took took over the joint. They were in the Men’s room making out and doing what lesbians do to each other’s lady parts. At one point, they were hanging from the God damn ceiling and foaming at the mouth. I went to use the men’s room, you know to pee like your supposed to do and they pushed me out of the bathroom. They wouldn’t allow a man to pee in the men’s because they wanted to live out some cracked out fantasy that invloved making out while smelling urine and sweat. I think Pete Master went in and used it anyway…which reminds me, those same lesbians were outside the bar later playing catch with a football (fact: lesbian always have a football with them when they travel in a group) and one of them threw a perfect spiral right at Pete’s chest and he dropped it. He has yet to recover mentally.

Last night at Blue Moon in Bronxville, Darren ate a burrito the size of a skateboard…well half of it anyway.

At this point with the way things are in the world, so many uncertainties, so much social unrest and economical instability, I think it would be best if the creator of the Garfield comic strip killed off Garfield.

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