Last night, after the opera, Lindsay and I were starving. After calling every single sushi place we thought might be open past 11:30 on a weeknight, we resigned ourselves to bar food. Which meant, since it was closest, Bar Louie.
So we’re sitting there, two beers in, over some gumbo and sandwiches, blathering on about whatever in between bites. Normally we’d be eavesdropping, but our few fellow patrons were clearly not worth the focus. Suddenly, the new chick halfway down the bar pipes up with: “What do you mean, you don’t know what philandering means?”
She is talking to the twentysomething bartender.
Said bartender proceeds to take a poll. Of the 8 people in the place (4 men, 4 women, including himself), the only people who have any idea what philandering means are the chick who said it, Lindsay, and me. Eventually, there was a pop quiz (by way of evidence, I can only assume). I was first. “Chronically unfaithful,” I said. Quizzical looks all around. “A philanderer is someone who usually fucks around on whomever they’re with.”
Said our non-focus-worthy friend: “So, like… a philanderess is a slut?”
Lindsay and I look at each other. She shakes her head almost impreceptibly. The fuckwit at the bar doesn’t notice. “He probably thought it was spelled with an F, too,” she says.
God help us all.