I had such a busy work-filled weekend (desk-erecting, and then a writing powwow with a good friend, helping her with a proposal) that I desperately needed some R&R last night, so I headed down to Dempsey’s. My brother was bartending, and I knew Hunter and Rachel would also be there. Rachel had gone to the prom at Yale over the weekend, so there were many stories I needed to hear. Basically, I needed to have a beer and chill the hell out.
Melody, my brother’s girlfriend, was also there.
I had missed the key moment of the evening, when Melody, Hunter, and Rachel all promised one another that they would do something with their lives, something creative, something fabulous, that they would live the life they had dreamt, and make a difference. Or something like that. I wasn’t there.
Melody was saying, “Because who’s to say that years from now, this night won’t be referenced in articles about us? Like: they toasted to living out their dreams at the bar at Dempsey’s. Luminaries such as Hunter Hanger, who did the fabulous mural on 5th Avenue was there, as was Sheila O’Malley, who was the primary force behind bringing out indigenous playwriting…” Melody was completely making stuff up off the top of her head, which was supremely amusing. “Who’s to say that we can’t be like the Algonquin Round Table?”
Hunter’s response to all of this was the question: “Does anybody have a megaphone?” This, obviously, struck us all dumb. What does that have to do with anything? Also: why the hell would any of us have a megaphone?
Hunter is so desperate for a job that he wants to dress up in a suit, print out his resumes, and walk up and down the New York sidewalks, calling into the megaphone that he is looking for a job.
I said to Rachel, “We should chip in and get Hunter a megaphone for Christmas.”
Hunter exclaimed, “How much can a bullhorn be??” Which was one of the classic quotes of the night.
In the middle of the bullhorn conversation, Melody said, “Hunter, do you know how to silk-screen?” Pause. “I know that has nothing to do with what we were just talking about. But I need to learn how to silk-screen. I have a T-shirt project I want to do.”
Everyone sparkling with new plans, suddenly.
Other amusing quotes of the night:
Rachel regaled us with many tales which are now emblazoned in my mind:
–She has matching poisonous-spider-bite scars on the backs of her legs, from two separate occasions. She was bitten by a white-tailed spider (the most poisonous spider in the world — DO NOT CLICK ON THIS LINK IF SPIDERS FREAK YOU OUT) in Sydney, and then had to get herself to the hospital through the last day of the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras.
–She lived in a neighborhood in Sydney which was so bad and so dangerous that there were skulls on the sidewalk. SKULLS. Hunter and I kept asking her to go back to that. “Wait a minute, wait a minute … SKULLS???” Rachel said, “It was the worst neighborhood in the Pacific Rim, basically.”
–She described someone as “the belle of the ball in Santa Barbara”.
–She told us about her friends who were getting married. The woman is from Pakistan, and the man is an Irish-Catholic from Quincy, Massachusetts. So clearly there are some conflicts of interest here. But the two love each other. He decided to convert to Islam, basically for her family, so that she will be able to maintain contact with her family in Pakistan, and visit her homeland, and not be shunned (or arrested and killed). Hunter was interrogating Rachel: “Is he basically doing this because he loves her or is he actually converting his religious beliefs…” Rachel said, “I am sure if he falls down the stairs he will not say ‘Praise Allah’, he will say ‘Please, Jesus, help me.'”
Oh my Lord, we howled at that one. Just howled.
Hunter and I were a rapt audience. But we also kept saying, “Okay, hold on a second…I need to get back to the whole skulls-on-the-sidewalk thing … WHAT??”
