This happened a few months ago, but it’s funny so I’m posting about it now anyway.
Tabitha works at Spring Street Natural, so I met her there after her shift one Saturday afternoon. We decided we wanted coffee, and Balthazar is right next door to her restaurant. Despite being a snobby place for paparazzi-hungry celebrities, Balthazar also has pretty cheap and good coffee available to go, so we got two cups. We were going to Terry Jinn’s to watch Battlestar Galactica, and decided that we should bring something, and realized that Dean and Deluca was on the corner, so we got cookies there. Then we wanted a crossword puzzle, so we picked up a New York Times and got on the R train. Suddenly we realized what we looked like: two people carrying Balthazar coffee, Dean & Deluca bags, a New York Times — one of whom is a late 30s wanna be hipster wearing retro glasses and the other is his asian girlfriend. One of us was probably listening to an iPod nano. We were suddenly and without warning the biggest douchebags in New York City.
But maybe we actually ARE douchebags! That’s the scary part. I mean, we bought all those things on purpose. I prefer the theory that if you spend more than half an hour in Soho, you just sorta become an asshole without meaning to. You accidentally become a douche. We acci-douched. That is what we did.
On my iTunes now:
No Bones by Dinosaur Jr. from "Bug"
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Jul 21st, 2008 at 11:05 am
Avoiding American Apparel and the Apple Store does weigh in your favor, however. So all may not be lost.
Jul 21st, 2008 at 11:30 am
absolutely chilling…
Jul 21st, 2008 at 11:37 am
At least you weren’t carrying a six-pack of Corona in a black plastic bodega bag and a copy of a free AM paper.
Where you see douchebags, I see pleasant society-building grown-ups.
Jul 21st, 2008 at 1:22 pm
You’re sweet Eric. Yes, I’m coming to terms with my true yuppie nature waiting to surface.
Jul 21st, 2008 at 2:07 pm
Anyone who brings me cookies can’t be all that douchey.
-Terry
Jul 21st, 2008 at 2:14 pm
One summer day, last summer, my cousin and I were walking around Soho and saw a woman who’d had her dead dog (I think it was a terrier, maybe fox terrier) stuffed/preserved and put on a chain. She wore him slung over her shoulder like a shoulder bag; I wasn’t close enough to see if he was indeed now a purse, but the whole thing was horrifying. And now I’ve shared it with you. Oops. But that’s another reason to avoid Soho. Perhaps fashionable but definitely tragic dead dog purses.
Jul 21st, 2008 at 7:53 pm
One fine California day not long ago, I had a similar realization that I’d played golf in the morning only to sit by my pool in the afternoon while reading a screenwriting book. That’s a LAXidouche.
Jul 21st, 2008 at 8:55 pm
Cat-cidental douchedags.
- Matt (pretending to be Linda)
Jul 22nd, 2008 at 1:00 am
Go back to Williamsburg you hipster.
Jul 22nd, 2008 at 9:42 am
Only thing really douchey about this post is the portmanteau.
I think of a douche as a certain financial-industry-working, tucked-in-dress-shirt-to-go-to-bars-wearing, steak-eating, money-clip-with-hundred-dollar-bills-bearing, Manhattan-new-construction-condo-buying type. That doesn’t fit your above self-description.
Jul 22nd, 2008 at 9:45 am
Thanks Billy, to all those in testament to our probably non-douchiness.
Trust me though, we LOOKED like douches.
Jul 22nd, 2008 at 11:43 am
I probably would have punched both of you in the gut and stolen your cookies. Douches!
Jul 23rd, 2008 at 10:17 am
At least you acknowledge you mistakes. Too bad you did it on your blog.
Jul 23rd, 2008 at 10:27 am
And here I was hoping that this blog would be about Will Hines accidentally douching himself.
Jul 29th, 2008 at 9:59 am
I misread, and thought your post would lead to an “acai-douche”. which feels very soho to me.