Friday, May 11, 2007
Work. (Or, More Notes on Camp)
Since this blog has blushed into an even deeper shade of gay this week, here's an old story about a former intern. The female intern, working just for the summer, described her morning decision making process to me.
It went something like this:
"Well, I think to myself before I leave my apartment - should I pack a bag and hit the gym after work...or...should I just walk to work in heels?"
Before I could say anything, she finished up:
"And...usually, I just walk to work in heels."
Sensing a chuckle, she shut me down:
"Don't laugh. It is so much harder than you'd think. You try walking 25 blocks in these motherfuckers."
Given that the internship in question was at a certain midtown employer where featuring vertigo-inducing footwear was a job requirement, I sighed and held back the nascent smartass commentary that was gurgling in my throat.