2. I want to go here so badly and look at the menu.
3. My work has provided me with this:
At first I didn't get why they were so ready to embrace something threatening their industry so gravely (although t.b.h. I think literary agencies are safe and it's publishing houses who are in trouble); but now holding it in my hands and using it I understand. It saves paper and you skim so fast and people regard me as a curiosity when I hold it on the subway in its cheesy brown leather case.
4. Bullied by a local Greenpoint teen. He said to his friends: "look at that girl holding a book. What party is she going to tonight - the book party?!" Oof.
2 comments:
From the time I was born to the time I was three years old, my parents and I lived down the block from Shopsin's. My parents would take me there and order pancakes, and Kenny Shopsin would always ask, "You want some shit in 'em?"
"Some what?"
"Shit. You know, bananas, blueberries, chocolate chips -- shit."
Years later, my dad returned to Shopsin's and asked Kenny, "How's your wife?" Kenny shrugged and said, "Oh, she kicked it."
"What?"
"Kicked the bucket. Two months ago."
I'm sad because I don't actually have any memories of going there. Apparently their hours are so erratic, I might never get a chance.
THAT IS THE BEST STREET HECKLE I HAVE EVER HEARD - definitely better than "damn girl, you got a set of legs on you"
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