Metropolitan Diarrhea

Reading this week's Metropolitan Diary in the Times and it was once again stuffed with self serving garbage

take the following letter from some hick

DEAR DIARY:



It was shortly after the debut of the movie “Fargo.” My elegant Minnesota sister (from Lake Wobegon country) and I passed the venerable Steinway piano store on our way to Carnegie Hall. She admired a piano on display and waxed rhapsodic (and quite loudly) about its grand features. She is, after all, a piano teacher.

A passing gentleman halted in his tracks as he overheard her. I thought he might be making a pass at her. (As I said, she is quite elegant.) No, no; all he said was, “Say something.”

Terribly surprised, she uttered the first thing that entered her mind: “Yah, sure, you betcha.”

He then uttered just one word — “Fargo” — and disappeared. 
Sonja Ann Stepperud

hey thanks for the boring story and more importantly thanks for the added detail that you were on the way to Carnegie Hall.  For one it made no difference to the story but it did give you the satisfaction that now all your friends know you are cultured.

then again you can be Jen Hulger and have to make sure that everybody knows you have an internship.. Surprised that she didn't leave her phone number and attached her resume.

Dear Diary:
I exited the No. 3 train at Park Place very early one morning, tired as ever and in no shape to show up at my internship by 9 a.m.
As I boarded the escalator in the subway station, I glanced at the electronic sign above. “Do not rest,” it said.
I was confused until the second half of the message scrolled across the screen: “... your umbrella on the escalator.”
Jen Thum

I hate people