I can see! I can see! My glasses arrived in the mail and I got lenses and now I can see. The gift of sight is a precious gift, remember that. I was using my old glasses before which had severely scuffed lenses so it was like seeing through a tub of vasoline. Also the bridge was cracked and a piece of plastic kept stabbing me on my nose. But now, when I DO see a girl wearing my glasses at yoga, I’m going to cut her. Look, I am not afraid to cut a bitch. You best stay out of SoHo.
So I get this call from my mother. She says, hey, what are you doing? I’m like well, it’s Wednesday afternoon I am at the office like a normal person so why are you calling me now, why can’t you call me at night like normal parents and not bug me during regular business hours. I’m not even sure why I pick up her phone calls during the workday. I guess a small part of me thinks that if a parent is calling during 9 to 5 I should pick it up because OMG WHAT IF IT’S AN EMERGENCY. Because really most parents only call during 9 to 5 if there’s some grave, illy shit, right? Not mine. This is what my mom thinks: Hmm, I am stuck in traffic. Let’s see, who can I call to pass the time? I know, I will call Annie because it is Wednesday at 2 pm, it’s not like she will be busy. And even though I know that this is what my mother is thinking, I still pick up her phone calls because I still think she is capable of normalcy and is in fact desperately trying to contact me because someone we know got into a horrific car crash or someone we know died or someone we know has fallen ill with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. But no, she is just calling to say hello and I end up getting annoyed because dude, I’m at the office.
So she says, to celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary, we’re going to Italy! And I’m like OMG that’s so awesome because seriously my parents never go anywhere other than Seoul. Once they went to Santa Barbara and that was pretty exciting for them. So I’m like oh shit you’re gonna love Italy. You have to be a real asshole not to love Italy. Which is to say even my grumpy father will love Italy. So I ask, hey, when are you leaving?
She says, oh we’re at the airport now.
We have a 4-hour layover in Philadelphia, why don’t you come meet us?
It turns out that Philadelphia is not actually the same as New York City. They are, in fact, in two different states. It takes a few hours to get to Philadelphia, depending on what mode of transport you use, train, bus, car, surrey. I explain this to my mother, who says, but it’s close. You should meet us. I’m like I can’t just meet you at the Philadelphia airport. This is not like swinging by the grocery store on my way home, you crazy person. And she says,
I can’t believe you are not going to meet your parents in Philadelphia. I can’t believe it.
And she does that tsk tsk tsk thing. That is the sound of disappointment: tsk tsk tsk.
I’m like, woman, Philadelphia is far, I don’t even know where the Philly airport is and it’s not like they will let me meet you at the gate to just chill like a gangsta, we live in a post 9-11 world and in addition, I fucking hate airports, and OH YEAH IT’S WEDNESDAY AT 2 PM. I’m WORKING for fuck’s sake.
Language! You talk like that at work?
She says, can’t you just take the subway. And I have to explain uh the subway does not go to Philadelphia and she’s like you know what I mean, can’t you take the train? And I’m like sure I can take the train but WHY WOULD I, once again it is Wednesday at 2 pm, I have like 4 more hours of work.
So she says OH gotta go, our plane is boarding.