File: Random
Sub-folder: Vaguely irritating things to say about other cities where I’ve got friends
So is it just me or does the name “San Francisco” sound really, um, well, gay? I mean, when I say to people I know–as I often did yesterday–“I’ve got friends arriving from San Francisco,” I always feel as if I’m coming out all over again. Like the person to whom I’m speaking suddenly has visions of magenta-haired beauticians swinging from the chandeliers in my living room and swagging everything that doesn’t move. Like they suddenly suspect me of owning a chifforobe full of rainbow-print lycra dresses and matching pumps. Like I’m going to bust out the quiche and the good china and start calling everyone “Mary.”
Well, I’d like each and every one of you to know that I associate with no magenta-haired beauticians. (At least, not since 1995.) And there’s no swinging to be done on my chandelier–in fact, it would probably come crashing down altogether if it weren’t so hideous that no one wants to touch it. And FYI, I already call everyone “Mary”–although I did go through a brief period last year of trying to change my nom de choix to “Fatima.” Unfortunately, though exotic and therefore humorous, “Fatima” doesn’t roll off the lisping tongue like the bi-syllabic “Mary.” So I go with what works. Feh.
P.S. Apologies to John for everything above. Will someone please let him know that I understand “New Orleans” is synonymous with alcoholism, poverty, and everyone’s favorite Southern tradition, racism? Chacun a son croix, je suppose.
sturtle [dot] com 