My day started off like any typical LA day. I had plans to hike Runyon Canyon w/ one of my favorite people in the word, Lisa and her 2 dogs. What ensued was just insane.
Lisa and I got accosted by a Hasidic woman after we chastised a rabbi looking-fellow to ‘pick up after his dog.’ This Hassidic woman with him, I will refer to as “Suri Cruise” because they all get their wigs modeled after that beautiful little girl’s haircut. It was the weirdest thing. From the back she looked like a full-grown Suri Cruise then when she turned around she looked like Bette Davis from the classic “Whatever Happened to Baby Jane.”
“Vhat, he lose his key?”
“No, he didn’t pick up after his dog, and if the rangers see dog poop we lose the right to use this dog park,” stated Lisa in her impressive, matter of fact way.
“It’s not our responsibilities to teach da men how to behave,” Suri went on.
“Yea it is,” I said.
One thing led to another and she noticed my ring finger was empty.
“Why you not married? Vhy not?” ”Vhy you not married?”
“I’m not married by choice.”
“Veally by choice?”
“Yes I’ve created my life, It’s exactly the way I envisioned it.”
Didn’t feel necessary to indicate that not everything on my vision board has come to fruition. Occasional familial psycho dramas pop up and throw me off course.
“Veally, you chose to be single? You vit voman?”
Suri was really pissing me off. I had no idea why she was coming after me. I wanted to kick her ass, follow her home and set a bag of dog poop on fire on her front stoop.
The rage appears FYI as a two headed greek-tragedy monster superimposed with my parents heads screaming at me in unison.
Bullied no more! 20 plus years of therapy finally kicks in.
“Yes, by fucking choice, you know why? I’ll tell you why, I like to have my natural god given hair flowing freely from my head for all of mankind to see. Why’s up with the shitty wig, sister?”
She backed down. Lisa was impressed. “Your peeps, you deal. I have a goyisha cup nose,” She said.
“SO DO I!”
When will the world stop lumping us together like a crab cake?
Got to dash to LAX. My friend Beth Bender www.beautystylewatch.com the makeup artist, and 1/2 the duo of the “Bender Sisters,” offers to drive me to LAX which is so sweet considering we’re not sleeping together.
I rarely pick anyone up from LAX. Not even my current beau.
Get to Virgin America terminal. My favorite airline in the world! Packed with Hassidim. Great. Another altercation. One guy looks like he’s about to break out into “Da Papa..Da Papa!!!”
Talk about free association or too much pot smoking. Anytime I see an Amish or Hassidic Jew it reminds me of an experiment we did in 2nd grade. The lesson was photosynthesis, how plants make energy from the sunlight. One grew in direct sunlight on the window sill, the other grew under the sink sans gamma rays.
The plant grown on the window sill was robust and healthy looking. The plant grown under the sink looked translucent and waxy. That’s what Amish and Hassidic people look like to me. Translucent limabeans.
Get on plane. It’s packed. Shit, the middle seat is full. A prepubescent 13 yr old Indian boy ( how do I know? I met his parents in the airport and commented on their adorable son. During the course of the conversation I asked if they were Spanish and they said no followed by ‘namaste”) is sitting in the middle. His parents are 5 rows behind.
I take my Sudafed and pass out. My shirt, unbeknownst to me, pops open during takeoff.
I’m wearing a low cut t-shirt and new bra (a size bigger) so my boobs look huge.
Upon takeoff my shirt flies open and the only way I found this out was because little Slumdog Millionaire was a lefty and he and his elbow kept jabbing me in the ribs every time he ‘choked the chicken.”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!!!”
“I have an itch.”
“NO you don’t. In this country it’s not appropriate to do that in public.”
I was so startled but I didn’t want to scar the kid into hating loud big boobed Jewish chicks.
“It’s ok to touch yourself looking at women’s boobs, but not in public ok? If you want to, go finish in the bathroom, ok? Do you want to go to the bathroom?”
“Yes ma’am.”
I never have alcohol on planes, but boy did I need a cocktail!!!!!
