I had to laugh at myself tonight. I was coming back from a screening, and was in this great, gentle mood. I’d taken a big leap of faith in the morning and had received such lovely support for it that by the time the movie outstripped my expectations, I was floating on Cloud Nine. On the train home from Midtown, I beamed at everyone, then got off a stop early to savor the cool, sweet quiet of my neighborhood.
Really, the word for how I was feeling was beatific.
Just as I was rounding the corner to my building, ready to write about all this good will, two twentysomething girls tripped by in clattery, clunky heels, nearly knocking me over though the street was otherwise empty. They were screeching so loudly that I instantly forgot my love for humanity. Visions of Alternate Universe Lisa being rudely awakened by their blather danced before my eyes.
They were having one of these conversations:
and he was like—[insert angry throat-clearing sound]
and I was like—[insert angry throat-clearing sound]
and then we were both like-[insert angry throat-clearing sound]
you know? [insert angry throat-clearing sound]
at an unspeakably high pitch.
In a pointedly deep voice, I called out: “You girls sound like dog whistles for humans.”
Being the lady who in the moment says what everyone later wishes they’d said is not generally advisable. Cries of “fucking bitch!” trailed after me as I mounted the stairs to my apartment.
I’m still laughing, though.