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Miss Heather Goes To Park Slope
Occasionally I get an idea so crass and stupid it must be followed through. This, my latest one, came to me yesterday afternoon as I was loading my purse with provisions for my trek to Park Slope. Giggling inanely to myself, I let my buddy Icky over in Windsor Terrace in on my plan. Here is his reply:
I’m hoping you got that thing on the lectern just before the reading. Let me know how it was and if there were any homicides.
There were no homicides, but I did:
- get the hairy eyeball from a number of people
- spy a drunk guy waiting at a bus stop on Seventh Avenue
This dude could barely sit up straight. He made me feel right at home. Note the poster hawking Jackson Heights to Park Slopers to the left. I wonder how “Jack Heights” would feel about having this guy as his neighbor? - listen to a crazy lady screaming about homosexuals in front of the Barnes & Noble. “Imagine your mother having sex with a demon!” was by far my favorite observation of hers. I had honestly never imagined this. Thank you!
Upon entering Barnes & Noble I quickly put my plan into action: I went to the bathroom. I chuckled to myself when I noticed a sign next to men’s room touting a “baby changing station”. But back to business— that being patronizing the women’s room and leaving my calling card.
I call this piece “Oyster on the Half Shell”. Though amusing, it lacked the element of surprise I desired. After wrangling with this contraption for a couple of minutes, I managed to fold the station with my little gift laying in wait inside. When the door is opened “Chopper” will slide out and say “Hi”.
Raccoons aren’t the only creatures in Brooklyn who have a nasty set of teeth.
Miss Heather
Comments
3 Comments on Miss Heather Goes To Park Slope
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rowan on
Thu, 6th Sep 2007 8:15 am
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ickyinbrooklyn on
Thu, 6th Sep 2007 10:10 am
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amarilla on
Fri, 7th Sep 2007 5:44 am
hahahahahahahahaha!
My impossible dream: Diaper Diva herself opens the changing station, she finds chompy sitting there. She screams bloody murder. He child makes a break for it. Nannies come running. Mommies rush to her aid in an overly-concerned faux-granola way. Chaos ensues.
Um, did I see the head that goes with that in the cabbages at Food Coop? Was it organic?
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