Fall Like a Dancer (Or, Fanny Pack)

All overheard last night - in various places (the subway, a Broadway theater, the street):

SEATED WOMAN IN THEATER: [to man next to her, who just stood up to exit the theater] Oh my, my my....you are tall. When you stood up, your fanny was right in my face.

Here's to free fanny facials...

STANDING GIRL ON SUBWAY WEARING BALLET FLATS AND FEATURING A 'XANADU' SIDE PONYTAIL: Look! Look at me! Mom! MOM! Look. At. ME!!! I'm still standing and I'm not holding on to the handrails! WHEEEE! [The stopped train suddenly lurches into motion - GIRL flies across car, bashing into gay German tourists and a drunk man] Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit! [She stumbles and falls to the ground in a pile of side pony and ballet flats] I can't believe I fell...but, at least I fell...like a dancer.

Her mother rolls her eyes, clearly regretting her decision to let What's-Her-Name have her own way with those goddamn dance classes.

DRUNK MAN ON SUBWAY: [addressing aghast gay German tourists] Heeeeeeeeeeeeeey....you're loooooooooookinnnnnnnnnnnng fuckinnnnnnnnnng goooooood there Charliiiie....wheeeeeeeerre are youuuuuuuu headddded? The villlllllagesh?

The Germans consult their subway map furiously...hoping the drunk will exit at the next stop or - at the very least - pass out on top of or accost or molest Xanadu-Girl-With-Side-Pony.