This awkward/hilarious/cringe tale sounds as though it could have appeared in the plot line of Colors Insulting to Nature, with your mother playing the part of Peppy (one of my favorite fictional characters EVER).
Bwuh. Uhn? Ernf? Mere de Dieu, Wilson. You Madchen Punk-Minx of the Embarcadero. This vignette is friggin scare-larious. It gave me flashbacks of your novel and made me realize just how much of COLORS has actually remained imprinted on my brain, years later, without me realizing it. Liza Normal. Bowling pins. MOTHERS. You took the meeting with this guy YOURSELF? Furiously jotting down notes? “Freeways were made to keep people like me …” —one of your all-time best lines, bar none.
I wish I had a time-machine: I’d zip back and throw confetti on your bewildered Afro-head in celebration as you came “offstage” but you might’ve strangled me, justifiably, with that scissored ballgown. What in the hell was the conversation like on the ride home?
I hope you made their booze-bagging duodenums go spastic. I hope several of the Republican women spilled gin on their calloused country club nipples, staining fabric beyond the scrubbing powers of their weary Latina maids. (The odd little fashion details you remembered, even then, in the midst of that warped mise en scene. Holy shit.) And the MEAT mogul. It would have to be a mogul buffeted by the proceeds of pig nostrils, wouldn’t it.
Well, I felt a little sorry for him. His fellow titan of commerce was some pal, huh? The sad sirloin tycoon could’ve used a heads-up, at least one that didn’t involve implants of Swedish origin. I hope they all shit their pants upon seeing and hearing you, just a brown blossom or two. (AND I know there must be a videotape of this triumph. Snapshots? Paper-doll limited edition release?)
Genius tragicomic memory, Cintra. Thanks for sharing… and I am so damned sorry/fascinated that that happened to you. All apologies. Even so, the whole episode could still be whipped into a smash-hit Off Broadway musical in three acts. Call Poundstone’s people and see if she’d be willing to reprise a cameo.
I’ve always wondered if roasts are as tricky as they seem! Hearing that you went to the rich guy’s house alone was more stressful than the guests’ reaction to your roast, but that WAS cringe-inducing. Well described! So impressed that you conceived of a character and look for the performance!
Aww thanks CD! Looking back, I've been the exact same person I've always been since i was about 12. I don't know what that says about me, but it's pretty true.
So interesting. When you think about the people whom you've known since they were around 12, do you think most are the same, too, or do you think, no--some people change in significant ways?
I honestly don't know. I've known a few people since we all were teenagers, and there is definitely some enduring through-line in their personalities. I have been repeatedly shocked by old work of mine from when I was much younger, mainly because my writing is still the same. I think they stay the same more than drastically change.
This awkward/hilarious/cringe tale sounds as though it could have appeared in the plot line of Colors Insulting to Nature, with your mother playing the part of Peppy (one of my favorite fictional characters EVER).
Well Dolling you wouldn't be far off the mark there.
Whoa. Did the guy who hired you ever express an ounce of regret, sympathy, a <mea culpa,> a "hey, I thought you were funny," anything?
You know, I honestly can't remember. I think I was tidily thanked and sent on my way. There was certainly no encouragement or apology!
Sounds like a Wall St-er. "He-uhz yah check, young lady. Let's not speak o'dis again."
Hilarious, and yet, so very very San Francisco.
Right? The rich people here are especially dull.
Bwuh. Uhn? Ernf? Mere de Dieu, Wilson. You Madchen Punk-Minx of the Embarcadero. This vignette is friggin scare-larious. It gave me flashbacks of your novel and made me realize just how much of COLORS has actually remained imprinted on my brain, years later, without me realizing it. Liza Normal. Bowling pins. MOTHERS. You took the meeting with this guy YOURSELF? Furiously jotting down notes? “Freeways were made to keep people like me …” —one of your all-time best lines, bar none.
I wish I had a time-machine: I’d zip back and throw confetti on your bewildered Afro-head in celebration as you came “offstage” but you might’ve strangled me, justifiably, with that scissored ballgown. What in the hell was the conversation like on the ride home?
I hope you made their booze-bagging duodenums go spastic. I hope several of the Republican women spilled gin on their calloused country club nipples, staining fabric beyond the scrubbing powers of their weary Latina maids. (The odd little fashion details you remembered, even then, in the midst of that warped mise en scene. Holy shit.) And the MEAT mogul. It would have to be a mogul buffeted by the proceeds of pig nostrils, wouldn’t it.
Well, I felt a little sorry for him. His fellow titan of commerce was some pal, huh? The sad sirloin tycoon could’ve used a heads-up, at least one that didn’t involve implants of Swedish origin. I hope they all shit their pants upon seeing and hearing you, just a brown blossom or two. (AND I know there must be a videotape of this triumph. Snapshots? Paper-doll limited edition release?)
Genius tragicomic memory, Cintra. Thanks for sharing… and I am so damned sorry/fascinated that that happened to you. All apologies. Even so, the whole episode could still be whipped into a smash-hit Off Broadway musical in three acts. Call Poundstone’s people and see if she’d be willing to reprise a cameo.
Haaaaaaaa I am always so thrilled the way these little episodes run through your mind, you know me so well.
Hey, I bet you made more at that gig than Seinfeld made at his first stand-up gig.
I’ve always wondered if roasts are as tricky as they seem! Hearing that you went to the rich guy’s house alone was more stressful than the guests’ reaction to your roast, but that WAS cringe-inducing. Well described! So impressed that you conceived of a character and look for the performance!
Aww thanks CD! Looking back, I've been the exact same person I've always been since i was about 12. I don't know what that says about me, but it's pretty true.
So interesting. When you think about the people whom you've known since they were around 12, do you think most are the same, too, or do you think, no--some people change in significant ways?
I honestly don't know. I've known a few people since we all were teenagers, and there is definitely some enduring through-line in their personalities. I have been repeatedly shocked by old work of mine from when I was much younger, mainly because my writing is still the same. I think they stay the same more than drastically change.
Paid $400. It felt dirty 😂