Today at the dentist's office, I was asked by the oral hygenist if I wanted to read Seattle Magazine or Seattle Metropolitain while waiting for the dentist to arrive.
"Get this shit away from me!" I yelled when she laid the magazines next to me. Then I began to cry.
"It's only going to be a few minutes," she said. "Why not just sit back, relax, and read a bit?"
"I can't! I won't! I shant!" I yelled. She sort of shook her head and walked out of the room.
The cover of Seattle Magazine had a picture of a woman hiding behind a white curtain, one high heel hovering in mid air, an arm stretched out, perhaps dancing quietly to herself.
"I do not want to read you," I said to it. "You see, I like to not think about things like Shrek the musical."
"Your average Seattle city slicker knows as much about rodeos as a ranch hand knows about soy lattés," it said back to me.
"Don't call me a Seattle city slicker!" I responded. "I am just a boy! Just a boy waiting to get his teeth cleaned!"
"It used to be that people came to the Pacific Northwest for the mountains and the water," it continued.
"NO!" I responded. "Okay, maybe."
"Now we can add another recreational element to that line-up: the burgeoning boutique environment,"
"WHAT?! That doesn't even make any sense. How is shopping recreational? How does it have anything to do with mountains and water or people moving here? You can't link those sentences together!"
Seattle Magazine looked back at me, embarrassed. "I'm sorry," it said. "I was written by the semiretarded woman who sat next to you in journalism class and told you she wanted to work at VOGUE, then I dabbled in corporate blogging for Starbucks until I finally was offered this magazine gig. I am semiretarded, so I am able to pull together basic sentences rife with cliche. If I was full-on retarded, I wouldn't be able to do that. So that's something, right? Look at my wacky collection of doorknobs! I make lists in my sleep! You can be in them! I'll call you 'most influential seattle douchebag.' How's that?"
"Okay, fine."
1 comment:
this is entirely too personal. i feel uncomfortable. but still i like it.
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