New York Undercover
Park Slope, Brooklyn. Sometime in the late evening. Early August:
Someone swore they saw me having dinner one night at The Chip Shop on 5th Avenue.
Park Slope, Brooklyn. Saturday, November 9, Approximately 12:30pm:
I went to have brunch with a friend at the Grecian diner on 7th Avenue. I parked my ass in a booth and the waiter came up to me and said, "You're back! Weren't you just here?" Um... no?
Park Slope, Brooklyn. Monday, November 11, Approximately 7pm:
A boy asks if that was me he walked by getting takeout at La Taqueria when I was really sitting on my sofa, talking on the horn to Shming, and eating a pint of Haagen Dazs (Vanilla Chocolate Chip).
All evidence suggests I have a doppelganger in the 'hood (and it's not Jennifer Beals). I wonder if this babe keeps getting mistaken for the woman who was at Great Lakes groping some guy in the bathroom. I wonder if people ever say to her, "Aren't you that crazy whore who gave Drew Barrymore a black eye?"
I want everyone to be on the lookout for possible suspects who may be trying to impersonate me. I know everybody wants to be a star but get down on your own damn casting couch, bitch. On top of it, she seems to think that all I do is eat.
What if I run in to her? Will we instantly know each other? Will we be fast friends? Will she be wearing good shoes and 'spensive couture? Will she be prettier than me? Will she be with her Mr. Hot Boyfriend Who's Totally My Type?...
Ooo. I will kill her.
