Greenpoint
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Love Letter
Shove this pencil up your self-involved hipster ass.
The above phrase is emblazoned on (what else?) pencils for sale at the Front Room Gallery. While a little mean-spirited for my taste, I outlaid $10.00 and bought me one because it brought back memories. Or at least one helluva memory, anyway.
Although I have always had the presence of mind not to shove a pencil (eraser OR business-end first) up my ass, I once knew someone who did. Involuntarily being made privy to the aberrant sexual practices of others is one of the manifold reasons I am the Dog Shit Queen of Greenpoint and you aren’t. It’s no picnic, I assure you.
Just over twelve years ago I worked as a helper for a gentleman who had cerebral palsy— we’ll call him “Juan”. He was a fellow college student whose motor skills were impaired to such a degree that he required help with even the most basic tasks. I would do his laundry, run errands for him, feed him, etc. Over the course of the summer I got to know him fairly well; not only did he have a mind that was sharp as a tack, but it was also a pretty damned dirty one at that. I returned his porno rentals back to the local video store on a number of occasions.
I was not the only “attendant” Juan had; there were three. We each had our respective days. Mine were Saturday and Sunday. Late one Sunday morning I got a phone call from one of Juan’s friends, “Mike”. “You need to come over immediately, Juan is in the hospital.” I hurried over immediately, met Mike, collected a number of Juan’s other friends and we drove to the hospital. En route, I learned what happened.
“Juan got a pencil stuck up his butt and then took a lot of laxatives thinking it would push it out,” said Mike. “HOW THE FUCK DID HE MANAGE TO DO THAT?” I thought to myself. I bet he made one hell of a mess. At the hospital I had the pleasure of being present when the E.R. doctor (who treated Juan) asked him the very same question. Juan replied:
I fell on it.
Uh-HUH.
Before any of you dear readers go off on me for being mean because I am picking on someone who is “handicapped”, let me tell you something. It would have taken a LOT of concerted effort for Juan to “fall” on a pencil in such a manner that it would find itself lodged in his “nether eye”. In a strange way this (very misguided) act was a testament to how tenacious he was: despite a very substantial challenge he doggedly persevered in every aspect of his life. The previous having been said, no matter how “abled ” a person is, he (or she) shouldn’t stick a pencil up his (or anyone else’s) ass. Much less lie to an ER surgeon about how it got there.
This brings me to the photo featured at the beginning of this post. It is a gift I received recently from my buddy Rachael. She found it on Nassau Avenue near the Evergreen Funeral Home. Let’s go in for a closer look!
Hmm… looks sort of like Paris Hilton. Like the body glitter.
Tortilla the cat likes Miss Heather’s new Greenpoint Barbie.
Um, that’s sort of disturbing. Then again, as long as the person who made this sticks to the attempted pencil penetration of inanimate objects, we’re probably safe.
Miss Heather
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