November 08, 2007
Last week, on Halloween, I had dinner with my bike friend at the inimitable, excitingly-mostly-vegan Vita Cafe.
As we were standing up to leave, my messenger bag caught the attention of one of the friendly waiter types. He hustled over and asked me where I got my "veggies make you sexy" patch. When I told him I'd made it myself his eyeballs went all acquisitive, so I asked if he wanted one. Indeed he did.
Tonight my house was empty and boring with both roommates out of town, and lacking any other pressing errands I decided to go back to Vita and give the man his patch. I also gave him a couple of stickers I'd made with the same design on my ridiculous wheat-pattern contact paper. One of the stickers was immediately and enthusiastically stolen by a cute waitress who'd decided to go vegan mere hours earlier.
The friendly waiter dude had mentioned paying for the patch, and I had spent the bike ride debating with myself whether to decline the offer or accept a token buck for materials. But inspiration struck him in mid-pocket-exploration, and he asked excitedly if I would rather trade for a piece of cake.
All I can really figure is that there must be a god after all. Someone wants to sport my patch and buy me vegan desserts? And figures this is an even trade? It's fucking ludicrous. So I pulled up a seat and had a giant piece of gooey coconut cake instead of dinner.
On my way out I chatted some more with the friendly waiter dude about make-it-yourself silliness. He told me he used to go around Seattle pasting homemade replacement gerunds on "no parking" signs to make them forbid dancing, thinking, walking, and anything else he could think of. And I thought, Seattle nothing, if this is Thursday and a friendly stranger is telling me animatedly about something creative and subversive, this must be Portland.
Posted by dianna at November 8, 2007 10:56 PM
Coconut cake for dinner! That is exactly the right kind of payment for you.
Can you send me a soft copy of the usage chart? I'd pay you in vegan carrot cake muffins or manicotti or something.
Oh yes yes. I had forgotten; thank you.
Hey, speaking of carrot muffins and manicotti, what are you doing for the upcoming Stuff Your Face holiday?
I was thinking of commemorating the holiday by running over someone on my bike and breaking their hand. Sort of a "pay it forward" kind of thing.
Actually, I have no idea - haven't even thought about it. Probably the same stuff I do every day. Aren't you doing something strange and hilarious? Something that involves an ill-advised combination of piping hot food and nudity? Or is my memory all out of whack?
Haha! Pay it forward indeed. Make sure to select as your target someone who is smack dab in the middle of an art project that absolutely requires the skillful right-handed use of scissors.
Your memory is functioning perfectly; I have indeed been talking about attending Skanksgiving. But I want to give careful consideration to the relative merits of that plan versus, say, invading Santa Cruz and bothering my sister. The latter does seem less likely to involve intimate gravy burns.
The Late Reply Department notes that while ants have a habit of re-invading my floor at unhelpful times, making it potentially tickly to sleep on, they seem to have been pretty good lately, and I heart visits. But, in your case, I heart them in an appropriate way that is unlikely to involve scalded unmentionables.
I can't believe that I was unable to remember the name "Skanksgiving." "Toplessgiving?," I kept asking myself. "Thankspanties? What the hell was it called?"
Thankspanties! That's possibly even better than Skanksgiving.
You should, you know, call me. Also we should talk about Knickersmas. I mean Christmas.