vice, and what happened to me this morning

No, no, no, no. Do not get your readerly hopes up. Those are two entirely separate topics. C'mon now.

Let's do the anecdote first. I need to preface it by telling you I was wearing my autumn leaf coat this morning. For those of you who have not been privileged to see it, the autumn leaf coat is a cream-colored corduroy swing coat with big brown buttons, a Peter Pan collar, and a pattern of gold and brown and black leaves on it. It is very adorable, and very distinctive. It is remarked upon most every time I wear it.

Well, this morning, as I was going to cross the street, a Boston police officer who was directing traffic around a construction site, held up his hand to me in the universal police-officer-stop gesture. I was a little confused by this, as there was no traffic in either direction. He walks up to me and says, "I have to make a comment."

"Okay."

He puts his hand on my arm. "I love your jacket. All the autumn leaves. You would brighten anyone's day in that coat."

I started laughing. "Why, thank you! Thank you very much!" And he crossed me to the other side.

Now, I am not quite sure whether he was the gayest, most Project Runway of all possible Boston cops, or whether he was trying to flirt with me. The touch on my arm pushes me towards the former, because most heterosexual men will not put their hand that familiarly on a woman they don't know, the prospects of being punched being, y'know, in the realm of possibility. But in either case, it made my day.

Now, The Book of Vice by Peter Sagal. Mr Sagal is, apparently, the host of Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, which I wouldn't know, because I refuse to be the kind of person who listens to NPR. Refuse. But, anyway, he's written a most highly entertaining book, one which caused me to burst out laughing out loud on public transportation more than once, might I say. (I particularly recommend this book to Mr Indemnity, because it touches upon several topics he and I have discussed to death, like what guys get out of going to strip clubs, how the richer a person is, the more they expect to be just given shit for free, and 70s porn, which I have not seen but he most certainly has.)

Now I have some problems with the book, since his premise is that for something to be considered a vice and thus eligible for a chapter in his book, it needs to be done for pleasure. He specifically says that he doesn't cover drug use and alcohol because addictions are not done for fun. But he has a whole chapter on lying, which--does anyone here think people who lie pathologically or run scams do it for kicks? I think generally not. It's either because of addictions to other things/substances or because of mental issues like borderline personality disorder and the like. Not for fun. And, furthermore, he examines both Bill Clinton and George Bush's lying at length in a compare and contrast context. I don't think any of us would deny that they've both lied like rugs, but do any of us think they did so for fun? So that chapter doesn't fit, in my humble opinion. But, good book overall. Well worth your commuting time to read.

So good, in fact, that I feel compelled to quote some of it to you. In the strip club chapter, after comparing the typical strip club which is, face it, kinda demeaning and depersonalizing to your male customer, with a Vegas ultralounge where purchase of a $300 bottle of scotch entitles you to a beautiful black-clad waitress kneeling before you to pour your drink, put in the ice, and serve it to you (note: hotness) which is also kinda depersonalizing (but demeaning to the waitress), Mr Sagal says he has a great idea for a true gentleman's club:

"You pay your money and walk in to find a room full of astoundingly beautiful women, all of whom are delighted to see you, thrilled to talk to you, excited to be with you at last. They run up, and tug on your arm, and put their hands on the back of your neck, the way some forward women do. You endure their questioning, and their interest, for as long as you care to, and then walk into the other room and watch sports on TV. For an extra $100, you can close the door right in their faces."

Ha. I know someone who lives that out in their daily life. Well, if you stretch the "astoundingly beautiful" like Silly Putty, but, y'know, there aren't hundreds of dollars changing hands either, so it all comes out in the wash, as they say. Live the dream!

I'm still in a great mood, yo.

xoxo