hodge podge

First:

I wandered into TNVB the other day. Aside from being a fantastic bakery, they also make great sandwiches. It was the weekend and I was feeling particularly lazy. I had slept in too late and was ready for a hearty sandwich. So I enter TNVB and get in line — apparently I wasn’t the only person craving a really excellent chicken salad sandwich. I’m standing in line, and all of a sudden one of the kids (yes, I refer to most people younger than I am as “kids” even though I myself am a baby of just 29) behind the counter starts singing along with the song that was playing on the radio in the store.

Soon, all of the staff was singing along… bobbing heads, smiling secret smiles.

And then, I couldn’t help it. I’ll admit it, I was the first among the lined up customers to ride the wave of musical comradeship. I sang. At first, hesitantly. And then with more gusto as those of us singing reveled in our own small musical moment.

And it grew. Others in line started singing, and in a blink of an eye the entire bakery was singing:

“Oooh weee oooh I look just like Buddy Holly/Oh oh, and you’re Mary Tyler Moore/I don’t care what they say about us anyway/I don’t care ’bout that/I don’t care ’bout that/I don’t care ’bout that!”

**********

Second:

I ordered in Indian food the other day, as may be surmised by a previous post. Along with my large bag of food (because of the minimum purchase for delivery) I received a calendar. Yes, a calendar. It’s a food calendar. I was very excited! A recipe for every month! Maybe Chicken Tikka Masala? A biryani? Hah. No. This calendar does, indeed, have recipes every month. But none are Indian. There’s meat loaf, fried fish, death by chocolate. But no Indian food. The name of the Indian food restaurant is proudly emblazoned upon the calendar. Does anyone else find this funny?

***********

Third:

I bought a t-shirt recently that happens to have the name of my neighborhood on it. It’s not like I’m a huge fan of my neighborhood. Or rather, I’m a fan, it’s a pretty OK neighborhood. But do I like it enough to advertise it? I wouldn’t think so. And yet… as I was walking past a shop in said neighborhood, I saw the t-shirt. The utterly yuppified I-should-have-a-husband-a-stroller-a-baby-and-a-mysteriously-small-dog t-shirt. The t-shirt which cheerfully displays, across the breasts, the name of my little corner of The City.

I bought it.

I’m sorry! I know… I know… it’s terrible. To have purchased something so inane… I can’t explain it. I have no excuse.

But worse…

Tonight I met up with friends for drinks. (Because it’s Wednesday.) Ack! I had to search for clean clothes to wear out drinking. Go on, guess what shirt I ended up wearing? TO MY NEIGHBORHOOD BAR. It really should be a crime to wear a t-shirt advertising a neighborhood IN THAT NEIGHBORHOOD. And yet, there I was.

But in the end, it appears that no-one else was as preoccupied with it as I was. I’m so vain/I probably think this song is about me. 😛