‘My husband was yelling about what moron could lose those files,’ said my boss. ‘But I told him don’t you dare call my assistant a moron!’
Fifteen minutes before sleep, an insomniac texts himself a record of the day in 140 characters or less.
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Wall Street was overcrowded with business folks in coats over suits, gracious the 36 degree weather gave them a new topic to complain about.
‘Now here’s an experiment,’ said @candychang. ‘If you put a newborn Asian in a bubble, in fifteen years will it love Depeche Mode?’
‘Are you Tim?’ I mouthed across the room. ‘No,’ he mouthed back. ‘Bob.’ I repeated this with every boy in the room. They were all Bobs.
‘Soon you will have a home.’ ‘What was that?’ I asked. ‘Oh nothing,’ he said. ‘I was talking to my cd player.’
Drew Daniel of Matmos passed me, wheeling away his sound equipment from the bookstore. ‘Goodbye pretty pretty,’ he told me. Pure gay bliss.
During Spice Girls’ Wannabe, the frat boys realized the lady next to me was really a Mr. Lady and no longer wanted to slam their body down.