No, dear readers, don’t get excited — Cunt Island is not a place. Well. Not yet, anyway.
Here’s the story:
My brother and a BFF are at a Chinese luncheonette in Midtown Manhattan* and my brother, being nothing if not gracious, lets my pal and myself sit side by side in the booth while he takes the backless stool (this will be important later).
We’re nearly through with our egg rolls and obligatory ptomaine course when a swanky hipster face appears out of nowhere, condescending and serious at my brother’s shoulder, much like a poltergeist from the bitchiest part of hell. Whispery but ever-so-earnest, she says: “Excuse me, but could you pull up your jeans? My friends and I can all see your ass crack.”
What What WHAT?! Who the fuck are YOU, lady? No one out sasses the sassiest siblings in this fucking city! But she’d disappeared as quickly and mysteriously as she came, back to the black hole of banality and knitted scarves on the other side of the dining room, leaving only the scent of aging patchouli and smugness in her wake.
Then, upon locating her visually, my brother pointed out that she wasn’t even facing the offending crack! Her two little token white friends sent her over to him, making her do the, er, dirty work… meaning that they must have all had a whole conversation about my poor brother’s ass crack.**
As we’re leaving, I resist the urge to breathlessly appear at Bitchy, Itchy and Twitchy’s table and utter: “Excuse me, but could you tell me at what time the train leaves for CUNT ISLAND?”
Alas. The moment was lost.
There’s always next time…
* Hilariously called, “Chef Yu” — I love it when my life makes it’s own brand of irony!!!
** Which, for the record, is not offensive in the least, and was barely hanging out — he was wearing low-slung denim. Hey, he can’t help being fashionable! We’re talking bare top of the coin slot, max. Regardless, who the hell spends their wonton soup course idly disparaging other people’s assholes? Oh, that’s right. I was in New York.
To be fair, or rather accurate, she never uttered the phrase “ass crack.” Other than that, this story is correct. Now I’m off to Cunt Island for some R & R.
She was so whispery and evil, it was hard to tell.
Cunt Island- this fall on NBC.
But no one would ever want to be voted off!
What a C U next Tuesday! Your brother should have told her he would cover his ass crack up if she did something about her offensive FACE!!
On the one hand, they had the decency to tell him, on the other hand, it’s none of their damn business. He should’ve walked past their table and given them the full moon. Just to make the point.
This is true, up to a point. I was indeed chagrined at the knowledge! (As anyone drowsy from digesting an MSG-filled meal would be when taken unawares.) But and yet! Given the cut of jeans in the style of today, I’ve been subjected to many an unwarranted crack show and didn’t think the slightest of it. It is generally something you see and go “oh” and then CARRY ON WITH YOUR LIFE or your meal or what have you. So, yes, I should have really dropped trou to full plumber crack. Or beyond!
The votes seem to be in, Phem. Now you’ll know how you should handle it next time: full ass nudity.
@Sorcia: Done and done. I’m glad we’re turning to crowdsourcing now for ways to handle delicate social situations. THE INTERNET, you guys!
I apologize on behalf of my city. I’d guess that she wasn’t even from here, cause if there’s one thing us New Yorkers don’t mind, it’s low-slung denim and the exposure of body parts.
Hah!
Oh Blacktress. Like I’d ever hold you accountable for uppity bitches.