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Tales of a Post-Grad Nothing

Tuesday, April 12, 2005


Double click for larger view of cock-free zone


E-mail received from my mother today (she endearingly types in all caps for no discernable reason):

"DEAR CHRIS:

I WAS SO EXCITED TO HEAR FROM YOU YESTERDAY THAT I FORGOT TO ASK ABOUT YOUR ARTICLE. I LOVE YOU. I AM SORRY ABOUT STRANGE PENISES.

-MOM"

For the past three days, I've been in a pseudo phone battle with the employees of The Erotic Museum. I've called no less than 10 times and each and every time the conversation has ended with me saying something like "On the highest story of your house, there was this man that erased all the clothings and had a desire to use his thing with which you can release urine nearest to my face. Things of these natures was not going well with me."

Passé composé: 1
Chris: 0

In all fairness to the French, there's really nothing you can say to that. Sure there was crazy American girl, now back on the bus and back to your group home. Every time I try to tell the story of what happened, I just come across sounding stupid, crazy, ignorant, or a sweet combination of all three. With one rep, I said, "I saw a peepee in real lifes," to which the woman replied, "How old are you again?" Like a version of 50 First Dates even crappier than the original, every day I speak to someone new and every day I get a reaction worse than the day before. One person thought I was trying to solicitseedy products, one thought I was offended by the subject of the museum, one even thought I was asking if visitors were allowed to touch their own genitals on the top floor and replied, "No mademoiselle, you can't do that here." If I didn't have a picture of a man in pants so shiny I can actually the reflection of my own camera in them, I would begin to doubt that the story ever happened to begin with.

Tomorrow is my last ditch, phone call #11 and if I can't make anyone understand, then I'm going to have to let everyone down and leave all the exposed-genitals-in-public-museums complaining to the French, who, if nothing else, are excellent complainers. All I can say is, I'm sorry too Mom, I'm sorry too.

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