Re: Staten Island Thinks I'm Ugly...Thank God.

On Saturday night I hopped in a cab from a friend's art opening in Brooklyn and headed home. Before I could pay the driver, the door opened and a drunk lass got in with her equally drunk fella. I kindly explained I wasn't quite done and they'd have to wait a minute. Almost on cue, the two of the them told me I was ugly and useless. I could tell by their attire they were not from Manhattan, Brooklyn or any other respectable place on earth...I chalked them up to Staten Islanders, or even worse, Jersey type folks. As I struggled to pull out my twenty-dollar bill and get my change, I was told by the girl I was ugly and useless easily five times. Normally, I let such mediocre insults slide off my back, but I was feeling uncharacteristically sensitive and melancholy; and oh, despite the one celebratory glass of champagne, I hadn't had a drink all night to liquor up my tongue enough to obnoxiously defend myself with f-bombs and unorginal slights about their accents, his gold chain necklace or her obviously fake boobs.

I walked the half block home after my barrage of insults and pounded on the door of my downstairs (mr. drug dealer) neighbor. I invited myself into his apartment, despite his unzipped pants and his obvious need to masturbate at that very moment (he had porn playing on his computer), and plopped myself on the floor next to his dog. I told him of my plight and he just laughed.

"Ugly?" he laughed, "You're definitely not ugly." I looked at him with a furrow. "If you were ugly, you'd be dead by now."

"What?" I asked.

"People hate ugliness and inheritantly pick at them until their dead...like a retarded a chicken," he said, taking another hit of joint.

"Maybe I'm the retarded the chicken they forgot to kill," I said.

"Nah...I'd do you if you didn't have that hulking boyfriend who hangs around..."

I don't have a boyfriend, nor do I know anyone "hulking" so I was confused.

"Who?" I asked.

"That dude with the good hair..." he said. I knew a guy with great hair with whom I hung around, but didn't realize that straight guys felt the same way about his hair I did.

"Oh," I said, realizing he must have been speaking of the only fella with whom I ever hang around, "Thanks," I continued hesitantly, "I'm glad I'm doable."

I pulled myself from the floor and headed upstairs. I wondered was it better to be ugly or to be doable. Under the circumstances, ugly was fine with me...when Staten Islanders start thinking you're doable, you know it's all down hill from there.

xo.Mandy

Because it's been too long...Pomegranate Seeds...