I went to Kansas City once.
That may have been enough. It’s weird out there! Everyone’s nice. Like really nice. Unnervingly nice. It’s peculiar. I don’t know if I like it.
I was there with two coworkers for a business meeting. One of the coworkers grew up in Missouri so understood the whole strange sweetness in the people. It wasn’t unusual to her, so she didn’t think to warn the rest of us East Coasters. I wish she had. I was unprepared.
When I started telling people I was venturing into the Great Midwest, people told me about the barbecue. Oh, did they tell me about the barbecue. There were apparently two real choices for good barbecue and everyone had an opinion on which was better. Was it the BBQ place inside the gas station or was it the place at which they yelled at you when you walked in?
The Midwesterner coworker was really pulling hard for Gates, the place where they were promised to yell at us. Yell at us? Huh? She conspired with our driver, who agreed. (The driver, by the way, was a woman! I don’t know what’s happening in the Midwest, but girl power is alive and well!! No job is just for men! Get it, Midwestern ladies!) Gates it was! All the way from the meeting to this supposed Mecca of meat, the coworker and our driver made a very special point of preparing us for what we were about to walk into.
Apparently, as soon as we stepped into the line we would be screamed at for our orders. The warning was to be prepared. Look at the menu before you got in line. Be resolute in your order before you made it to the counter. Don’t look back. Don’t look the servers in the eye. Don’t blink! Don’t panic!!
So, of course, when we got to Gates, we made careful business about the menu board before the line, expecting the Soup Nazi of barbecue to own us if we made a mistake or stuttered in the least. It was nerve wracking. I was anxious, but I was ready. Pulled pork. Potato salad. Let’s do it.
Then the yelling started.
“Hey honey!! You ready, sugar?! What can I get you?! What you want today?!”
Wait. That’s the screaming barbecue version of the Soup Nazi? I. Don’t. Understand. They were niiiice. They were loud, but they were very gracious, sweet and patient.
Naturally, we became fast friends as I chatted over what the best sides were and what I should order. Midwesterners are crazy for being intimidated by these glorious women! And boy was the barbecue delicious!! My boss can’t stop talking about how awesome his burnt ends sandwich was. To this day, I still hear about it regularly. He’s right, though. I’d go back there again to visit my meat-slinging friends.
Full and happy, the driver drove us back to airport, and then she did the most bizarre thing. Dropping us off, she hugged us, each of us. HUGGED us. Our driver HUGGED us! Hugs! Hugs all around! Her arms, my body. HUGGING.
I got on that plane back to DC and respectable, polite distance and familiar hostility between people, clicking my heels and saying, “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home…”
Monday, October 24, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
When “men’s” fashion fights back
Now, I appreciate a guy who is aware of his image. I mean, I’m in PR and I’m also obsessed with make-up and beauty treatments, so image is something I’m acutely tuned into myself. Sometimes, though, a guy can get a bit carried away.
I dated a guy who turned to GQ as if it were his personal style advisor. This might be a triumph for many guys, and I certainly enjoyed his attention to current trends and fashion. When we’d find ourselves having endless conversations about whether he could pull off particular looks or when, for weeks after a new GQ came out, I could count on having pages laid out for me that we’d then dissect at great length, it became more than amusing.
Some of our most frequent conversations:
“What do you think of that guy in that cardigan? Do you think I could pull off a cardigan? No, only hipster or gay guys can wear cardigans, right? Well, maybe I could wear a cardigan. No, I can’t do the cardigan look. I’d be too Mr. Rodgers. Yeah, I think that cardigan is cool, too, but I couldn’t wear that. Could I wear that? No. Cardigans wouldn’t work on me. Cardigans?”
“I think only girls and a very particular type of guy can get away with a vest.” Of course, then, at least three times a month, we’d revisit what sorts of guys actually fell into that “particular type” and whether he was one of them. Really, at least three times a month.
There were also some notable style mishaps.
One time he came over to my house after an evening out with the guys. My first reaction when I saw him was, “Whoa! Was this a theme night? Are you dressed as a homosexual gas station attendant?!?!”
His response? “This shirt is cool! Why has everyone made fun of me for it tonight?!”
Eventually, I had to admit that it was a good top. “No, you’re right, babe. This is a nice shirt. See, it looks great on me! Can I have it?”
And then there were the jeans he wore to my birthday party that have become famous. They had studs on the pockets and pink trim. Theories abound about whether they actually may be women’s jeans. He insists that they’re just especially trendy men’s jeans. Since they’re Rock & Republic jeans and were very expensive, he may be right—except that R&R also makes women’s jeans, so your guess is as good as mine!
Apparently, he ordered them online and didn’t take a look at the rear view of them on the website before he clicked “Buy.” Then, he got them, liked the way they fit and couldn’t decide whether the sparkles on the butt were a deal breaker. I’ve got several friends who still, many, many months later maintain they were.
Knowing the way he thinks—especially about himself—I know that he just really, really enjoyed how they showed off his assets, and he probably, not so secretly, really appreciated how the sparkles drew more attention to his butt. I’d agree that they did fit him well and weren't so bad, especially paired with a sequin and feather, Las Vegas-style headdress to complete the look!
Sometimes we all make style mistakes that we can appreciate as pushing boundaries or attempts at trend setting. The important thing is to have a good attitude about them and be able to laugh at yourself. Thankfully, this guy usually did. I wonder, though, after all the teasing he got that night, whether he’s ever worn the pants again—or the top I was forced to give back to him. God be with him if he has!
I dated a guy who turned to GQ as if it were his personal style advisor. This might be a triumph for many guys, and I certainly enjoyed his attention to current trends and fashion. When we’d find ourselves having endless conversations about whether he could pull off particular looks or when, for weeks after a new GQ came out, I could count on having pages laid out for me that we’d then dissect at great length, it became more than amusing.
Some of our most frequent conversations:
“What do you think of that guy in that cardigan? Do you think I could pull off a cardigan? No, only hipster or gay guys can wear cardigans, right? Well, maybe I could wear a cardigan. No, I can’t do the cardigan look. I’d be too Mr. Rodgers. Yeah, I think that cardigan is cool, too, but I couldn’t wear that. Could I wear that? No. Cardigans wouldn’t work on me. Cardigans?”
“I think only girls and a very particular type of guy can get away with a vest.” Of course, then, at least three times a month, we’d revisit what sorts of guys actually fell into that “particular type” and whether he was one of them. Really, at least three times a month.
There were also some notable style mishaps.
One time he came over to my house after an evening out with the guys. My first reaction when I saw him was, “Whoa! Was this a theme night? Are you dressed as a homosexual gas station attendant?!?!”
His response? “This shirt is cool! Why has everyone made fun of me for it tonight?!”
Eventually, I had to admit that it was a good top. “No, you’re right, babe. This is a nice shirt. See, it looks great on me! Can I have it?”
And then there were the jeans he wore to my birthday party that have become famous. They had studs on the pockets and pink trim. Theories abound about whether they actually may be women’s jeans. He insists that they’re just especially trendy men’s jeans. Since they’re Rock & Republic jeans and were very expensive, he may be right—except that R&R also makes women’s jeans, so your guess is as good as mine!
Apparently, he ordered them online and didn’t take a look at the rear view of them on the website before he clicked “Buy.” Then, he got them, liked the way they fit and couldn’t decide whether the sparkles on the butt were a deal breaker. I’ve got several friends who still, many, many months later maintain they were.
Knowing the way he thinks—especially about himself—I know that he just really, really enjoyed how they showed off his assets, and he probably, not so secretly, really appreciated how the sparkles drew more attention to his butt. I’d agree that they did fit him well and weren't so bad, especially paired with a sequin and feather, Las Vegas-style headdress to complete the look!
Sometimes we all make style mistakes that we can appreciate as pushing boundaries or attempts at trend setting. The important thing is to have a good attitude about them and be able to laugh at yourself. Thankfully, this guy usually did. I wonder, though, after all the teasing he got that night, whether he’s ever worn the pants again—or the top I was forced to give back to him. God be with him if he has!
Monday, October 10, 2011
Work sparks
There’s a guy whose company shares office space with my company, and he is not ugly. So, obviously, I’ve zeroed in on him as the next potential Mr. Kristin Brown target.
Our interactions are those that will fill romance novels one day: I say something witty and brilliant; he looks overwhelmed, laughs, says something less than witty and borderline boring and goes on his way. Can you feel the excitement of burgeoning love?!
Like in high school when a crush would find excuses to just happen to be near your locker, the frequency with which he passes by or lingers near my office has definitely increased. I think we can all agree that clearly all this Kristin is working for him!
I’m pretty sure that I’m going to find that he’s less than smart if we ever eventually go out, and then I’ll be stuck with him at work. He seems nice, though, and has a good, professional job. And, at this point, that seems like just about enough!
Our interactions are those that will fill romance novels one day: I say something witty and brilliant; he looks overwhelmed, laughs, says something less than witty and borderline boring and goes on his way. Can you feel the excitement of burgeoning love?!
Like in high school when a crush would find excuses to just happen to be near your locker, the frequency with which he passes by or lingers near my office has definitely increased. I think we can all agree that clearly all this Kristin is working for him!
I’m pretty sure that I’m going to find that he’s less than smart if we ever eventually go out, and then I’ll be stuck with him at work. He seems nice, though, and has a good, professional job. And, at this point, that seems like just about enough!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
