"The Canadian Mistake" is a perfect description of a girl I used to date. She was from the Great White North and it was a mistake to date her. Live and learn, yo.
Anyway, I once found myself driving solo in her SUV. She'd festooned a sticker of each and every one of the schools she'd attended in her career ascent to the rear window such that it started to look like a out-of-town scoreboard at a ballgame: Whittier v. Cornell; Columbia U v. ?? It was quite the "ooh Look At Me" display.
I was crawling up Franklin St. in SF and not making much progress; there was some parade or another up ahead. It was rare nice day and I had the windows down. Along my left crept another SUV, this one filled with dizzy-looking (presumably) Marina-bound grrrrls. The driver had a big mouth: "Hey! Did you ever graduate?" she yelled.
"Pardon me?" I said.
"All those school stickers on yr window! Did you ever graduate?"
"Oh those," I said, "this is my girlfriend's SUV. She went to those schools."
"Did she ever graduate??" Miss Bigmouth then asked.
"Yep. She sure did. From each one of them."
"Can't she decide what to do?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Why did she keep going to different schools? Couldn't she decide what to do?" This was getting old.
"Oh, I see," I said, "She went to one school for an undergraduate degree, then she went to the others for graduate degrees. She's a geo-physicist."
Blank stares from the grrrrls.
"A scientist? Surely you know what a scientist is," I said. "Have you ever heard of science?" I asked.
The Bigmouth didn't like that one. "Yes I've heard of science!"
"Well you have to go to school for a long time to be a scientist and ... hey," I said, looking from Bigmouth to the quiet grrrl in the passenger seat, "hey, YOU'RE very pretty. What's YOUR name?"
Bigmouth REALLY didn't like that one. "Shut up! Don't you have a girlfriend?"
"Yeh," I said, "She's a pill. Look, you're kinda pretty but not like her," nodding toward the passenger, now bright red. "She's REALLY pretty." I looked at the passenger. "You're REALLY pretty." She may or may not have been.
Bigmouth had enough, especially when the other grrrls in the back seat erupted in laughter. "Jerk!" she yelled, "don't cheat on your girlfriend!" Then she rolled up the window yelled "JERK!" again through it before yelling at her passengers. Then she left me alone.
Tonight - Sutter Street Statio . (or Tavern) Note: Cash Only.
Don't let the Yelp™ review bar graph scare you. Just rotate it 90ยบ counter-clockwise. The place is just giving the finger to other SF establishments.
And, Sutter Street Statio has been around nearly as long as AC... who is celebrating a birthday this week. Come on out and buy him a beer!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
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