Well, At Least They’re Reading

Overheard at Barnes & Noble:

Cashier: “Um… you really need five of these?”

Customer: “They’re for my nephews.”

Cashier: “Oh, okay. So you’re, like, the favorite uncle, huh?”

Customer: [proudly] “Yes I am!”

Cashier: “I thought maybe you were buying them because your daughter was in them, and you wanted them off the shelves.”

And with that, I totally invaded the customer’s personal space to get a good look at his purchases, which turned out to be multiple copies of this year’s Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. Awesome. The next time my own niece and nephew are in town, I’m presenting them with commemorative editions of Our Bodies, Ourselves and The Guy’s Guide to Feminism.

An Open Letter To Pat Benatar

Dear Ms. Benatar,

Listen. Before we stab the heart of the matter, let me just say that you’ve always struck me as a supportive person, and while not a gay icon, I’m sure you have a small but devoted cult following of drag queens who “do” you. In fact, I was once greatly entertained by a couple of “the children” (as the kids say) lip-synching “the house down” to your classic anthem, “I Love Rock and Roll.”

Oh, that wasn’t yours? Pity. It’s a great song. Unlike others from roughly the same era.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Ms. Benatar, please know that I am almost completely positive that you are probably in no way responsible for Douglas and I breaking up last week; I know you’re not actively a monster. But shortly after Douglas and I had the Talk, a friend of mine, obviously crazed with desire to show sympathy and as such incapable of making rational decisions, sent me a link to a callous smirk of a 1981 pseudo-hit called “Promises in the Dark.”

Let’s review some lyrics, shall we?

Never again, isn’t that what you said,
You’ve been through this before,
You swore this time you’d think with your head,
No one would ever have you again,
And if takin’ was gonna get done, you’d decide where and when.

Just when you think you got it down,
Your heart securely tied and bound,
They whisper promises in the dark.

What could have possessed you to pen such a blatant and grammatically incorrect attack in which you accuse me of both codependency and love addiction, knowing that I’d go through a heart-wrenching breakup 23 years later, is quite beyond me… but then again, I am not a sociopath with a gaping, desolate chasm where my soul should be. Regardless, I forgive you, Ms. Benatar: It’s important to me that you know I forgive you. Now let’s just try to move on and put your horrible, horrible behavior behind us, okay?

Still a huge fan,