Starbucks & The Story of Pat
The other day I was at a Starbucks in Victorville, getting a Vente non-fat, no water chai before having to teach six 1 hour classes to 7th graders. You really need the boost especially after driving from Pasadena to Victorville in the early morning. As I was waiting in line, I saw a strange sight. I never saw that sketch on Saturday Night Live. Truth be told I started petering out from watching SNL after Eddie Murphy left. As far as I was concerned he was the last of a dying breed. The first years were full of giants. Now they are just insignificant squirrel farts. There I said it.
Anyway, getting back to Pat. There was a sketch starring someone who I don’t know playing an androgynous character named Pat. Was Pat a woman or a man? No one really knew. When people described the skit I didn’t see the funny. It wasn’t like Steve Martin and Dan Ackroyds “Wild ad Crazy Guys” or Belushi doing “Cheeseburger, cheeseburger, No Coke – Pepsi”
Now I think I understand. I was at Starbucks again. I KNOW but they have come up with a new kind of crack… (I will blog that tomorrow.. STAY TURNED FOR STARBUCKS & CRACK) SO … I was in Starbucks and I saw this … person. Do you know how disconcerting it can be when its not the 70s and you don’t know if someone is a man or a woman.
5″5′, about 180, blond wavy hair, shoulder length, wearing pants, a shirt and a jacket, couldn’t see any breasts, couldn’t see any facial hair, adams apple or hairy knuckles, didn’t want to stare too much. Then I started thinking, Why should this bother me? I mean, I’m not going to conversate with “Pat”, why should I worry if “Pat” is a man or a woman? I shouldn’t care. We are both just needing to get a fix, get over yourself. Still I ruminated.
Perhaps it is because I have started eyeing people with an uneasy air after the Camel Toe incident. BTW, would an in your face camel toe classify as a WMD? Personally, I think it does. But back to Pat, I have decided that people who appear outside the societal norms upset the hive mind. Yeah, that’s it – blame it on some weird, psych theory that I can’t prove BUT if you give me grant money I will try or at least spend your money on booze & hookers then write some moronic paper at 2 in the morning all strung out on X and self-loathing.
I really need to start writing on the book now instead of just venting about some poor Pat person. Sue me. Hey! Maybe later I can go out for some Panda and there is another Starbucks right there on the corner I can try. Doesn’t that always seem to be the way?