Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Taffy Goes Dancing

(Tuesday afternoon.  I'm walking across the university campus with Taffy.)

Taffy: My feet hurt.  I wish I could just go barefoot some days.  Too much dancing last night!

Me: You went dancing last night?  Where?

Taffy: Well, I wasn't really dancing, I was just curious to see what people do on dance nights.  It was some gay bar, I don't know the name. There's too many [in San Francisco].

Me: Do you call Monday a dance night?

Taffy: Sure.

Me: Really? Who did you go with?

Taffy: No one.  Just me. I don't really know anyone yet.  I just went out.  Except the people there were so mean to me.

Me: At the bar, er, club?

Taffy: Yes!  Yes!  I wanted to dance with the guys but they were all gay so then there were these girls all dancing in a circle, and I was excited to see other girls at a gay bar, so I danced with them.

Me: Oh, that doesn't sound bad.  The gay guys were mean to you, then?

Taffy: No, the girls were!

Me: I don't understand.  Were you picking up on them?

Taffy: No!  I like guys, but I wanted to dance with someone.  I walked up and asked the girls, Are you lesbians?, and they didn't answer me, just turned and laughed.  So I asked again, and they didn't tell me if they were lesbians, so I got in their circle and danced with them.  But they didn't like that.

Me: Are you autistic?

Taffy: Shut up!   No!

Me: You don't just ask people if they're lesbians and then dance with them.

Taffy: Well, how else do you meet people!?


Soccer Mom/Dad Advice (Twatting)


Monday, March 10, 2014

Taffy Eats an Egg on the Train

(Morning. Taffy, Keith, and I are dressed nicely, riding on public transportation to a work event we are staffing.  We are seated.  The train is full of students.)

Taffy: Oh my god, there are so many people on this train.  We're so lucky we found seats next to each other.  I hate standing.

Keith: I know.

Taffy: So how long do you think this event will go, like, will we be able to have a lunch break or something?

Me: Yes, of course.  There'll be food at the event.  If you're hungry, you should eat something before, though.  You'll probably be talking to a bunch of people and you don't want stuff in your mouth.

Keith: I need some coffee.

(Taffy removes a clear baggie from her coat pocket with a peeled hard-boiled egg in it. She takes out the egg and begins to eat it.)

Me: I thought you had coffee this morning.

Keith: I bought some, but didn't have a chance to drink it--oh, wow, that smells!

Me: Are you eating an egg?

Taffy: (mouth full) I'm hungry!

Me: We're on a train.

Taffy: And? You can't eat an egg on a train any more?

Keith: You shouldn't eat an egg on a train.

Taffy: (continues eating) Why?

Me: Do you see other people eating eggs on the train?

Taffy: No.  Maybe they ate theirs already.

Me: I don't think so.

Keith: Taffy, that really is rank. (holds nose)

Taffy: Maybe they are saving their eggs for later.  Maybe they have eggs in their pockets.  You don't know.

Me: Why didn't you eat it before?

Taffy: We were rushing.  What's the big deal?  I'm hungry.  I have an egg.  I'm going to eat it.  Get over it.  (defiantly shoves last bit of egg in her mouth)

(Nearby students start to hold their noses.)

Me: Okay.  It just smells awful and we're in close quarters.  Exercise some decorum.  You have egg on your face.  Literally.  And, there, in your hair. 

Taffy: (talking through masticated egg) Okay! 

Keith: (takes mint out of his pocket, hands it to Taffy) You'll need this.

(Taffy, with a mouth still full of egg, takes mint and eats it.  A student groans in disgust.)

Taffy: There.  Happy?

Me: You know you're "that" lady on the train now.

Taffy: What does that mean?


Thursday, March 6, 2014

Taffy High-Fives A Gay (Not Really)

(Taffy, who comes from a sports background, comes over to my office and plops down in the chair next to my desk.  I'm working at the computer.)

Taffy: So, tell me about this event on Friday.

Me: The Marsh Concert?  We've invited a few donors to a pre-performance talk, then the concert, then they come to the reception and have cheese and crackers and maybe some wine.

Taffy: Did you reserve a room in Performing Arts [Building] already?

Me: Yes, I went through Andrew Benjamin.  It's all confirmed.

Taffy: Who's that?

Me: Andrew?  He's in charge of facilities and--

Taffy: Oh, I know who he is, yes, yes, yes!  He's weird.

Me: Really?  How so?

Taffy: Well, I had a meeting with him about some scholarship thing, I don't know, but at the end of the meeting I went to give him a high-five and he wouldn't give me a high-five back so I was just left there hanging.  He actually looked kinda mad.  What's up with that?

Me: I don't know.  Did it seem appropriate to give a high-five?  Were others giving high-fives? 

Taffy: No, it was just me and him.  Somethings wrong with him.

Me: Well, maybe he's just delicate or wasn't in a high-fiving mood.

Taffy: Delicate, like, (whispering) you think he's gay or something?

Me: No, I know he's gay, he's very gay.  Some people just don't want to slap hands with another person.  And you don't have to whisper, it's not a secret or a bad thing.

Taffy: (still whispering) Andrew is gay?

Me: Really?  Andrew that wears ascots, sews fabric flowers on his lunch break, and carries a poodle in a purse?  He's a nice guy, and yes, he's gay.

Taffy: And gay guys don't like to high-five?

Me: I think that's a stereotype, but I'll say in a professional setting, in general we don't high-five our colleagues.  It's an office, not a football stadium.

Taffy: What about a fist bump?  Haha!

Me: In San Francisco, we slam our chests into one another.

Taffy: Really?!

Me: No.
Taffy: Wow, I'm learning so much today.