CHARISMATIC MEGAFAUNA

By Quiconque

Well, I'm Still Beautiful

I am Absolutely Beautiful

La Belle H�l�ne, Super Fudge, Babs and I saw Harry Potter 3 tonight. It�s a tender coming-of-age story that begins with Harry playing with his wand under the covers and ends with him finding love and planning a happy life together with an escaped convict. After the movie we met Prima and Her Grace for whisky and dessert at our favorite Irish pub.

We were sitting, talking, telling silly stories about "penits butter" and "Man-Size Butt" when a man walked by our table, smiling. We�re used to people smiling at us all the time. People smile at the racial harmony. We call it the Benetton Effect.

But then he came over to my side of the table, leaned in, and said, AS HE KISSED ME ON BOTH CHEEKS, �I have to tell you that you are absolutely beautiful.�

�Who the hell are you?�

�Can I just say, you are absolutely beautiful,� and he walked away.

My friends were incredulous. �What the fuck just happened?�

I was dumbfounded. �I have no idea!�

Her Grace and I escaped to indulge in a carcinogen. Outside the bar, another guy, GL, approached us. He began with the usual complaints smokers make in front of bars in NYC. Then he started to diss Philadelphia, which immediately let us know he was a loser.

Eventually the conversation moved onto ethnic origins. GL was taken aback that we could tell he was not American from his Italian accent. He looked at Her Grace and uttered this sure-fire line:

�You know, Asian people look the same to me.�

�Well, all Western Europeans look the same to us,� we countered. It took him five minutes to realize that what he had said was just as absurd.

Then the poor man turned to me. �What are you?� he asked, not knowing into what murky depths of ethnicity he was plunging. He did manage to guess that I was from �the islands.� But GL guessed Cuba, poor fellow. Sorry, thanks for playing. We fled back into the bar.

Within minutes of rejoining our table, my special friend returned. He approached the table with his hand outstretched, palm up, as if I was a dog who needed to smell his friendliness.

�Can I just tell you, you are absolutely beautiful.�

�Thank you,� I replied archly, �You are too kind.�

�Can I do this?� He extended his hand.

�No, I do not know you. We need to maintain our boundaries.�

�You are absolutely beautiful.�

�Again, thank you. Good night.�

I turned to my friends. Inspired by my encounter, Prima taught us the best way to poke someone in the eyes. FYI, the 3 Stooges method is silly and ineffective. The best way is to make a C shape with your thumb on one side and your index and middle fingers on the other.

Later, outside the bar with Her Grace, my friend found us again.

�Can I just tell you one thing?�

Exasperated, �WHAT?�

�You are absolutely beautiful.�

�Yeah, so you said.�

�I saw you sitting down in the chair and I had to tell you that you are absolutely beautiful.�

Her Grace rolled her eyes. �You know what? You�re right, she is absolutely beautiful.�

He ignored her and kept talking to me. �You know, if I was going to marry a woman, she would look just like you. Because you are absolutely beautiful.� Right here I should have asked if he was gay, because, what other marriages has he considered? But I didn�t.

And then, �Where are you from?� which elicited a round of derisive laughter from Her Grace and me.*

Her Grace was less than kind. �I know where she�s from. Guess and I�ll tell you if you�re close.�

�You are American.�

�Yes, I was born here. But not my parents.�

�Are you Dominican?�

�No.�

�You are absolutely beautiful.�

�Yeah, thanks. Good bye.� I walked over to the door.

�You are absolutely beautiful. And you,� he turned to Her Grace, �you are a troublemaker.�

Absolutely.

*For some reason, no one ever guesses The Bronx.

|

LINKS

DIARYRINGS

READING: HP3

WATCHING: HP3