A Girl After My Own Heart

I was in Noo Yawk Sitty at the beginning of last week.

Meetings with the good folk in Secaucus and OhDannyBoi in Midtown. Always a good time.

Things were pretty good- I'm doing the low-carb thing - fortuitously there was a Brazilian steakhouse less than a block from the hotel, so I had that going for me...

(Fogo de Chao for those keeping score at home)

A couple non-paid endorsements are in order here- first:

If you are a traveler, have you installed the Hotels Tonight app on your phone yet?

Do it. Do it NOW. Listen to your Uncle Jay: It's awesome. 

I got the Manhattan Hotel on Times Square (which is NOT on Times Square) for $140 for that evening. A steal for Midtown property... 

Second - I picked up a pair of Belleville Tactical Research Hot Weather Boots (TR606 - Sage) from Outdoor Equipped via Amazon and I've been wearing them pretty extensively- including this trip to the (very rainy) Big Apple and they are amazing...

I have been having issues with Plantar Fasciitis, and I have had to swear off flip-flops and sandals (difficult for me) and have been wearing shoes with significant soles and arch support to clear it up.

These boots are no exception- Mid rise uppers, lace-ups, great sole and arch- and great for the extensive walking around the mean streets of The City. And they stood up to the water and mud 

spectacularly.

Love me some Belleville boots. Get you some.

(I repeat- unpaid endorsement. Note to FTC: Blow me.)

So... to the Girl...

I was heading back out to Newark for my flight back home- I hoofed it through the mud, blood and rain to Penn Station and decided to get a bite before catching the train to EWR.

Found a little bar/restaurant that looked promising...

As I sat down, the barmaid was yelling to another waitress-

"F*ck that guy! He gets nothing!" indicating another customer who just laughs along with the bar wenches...

Wow. Nice language... You kiss your mother with that mouth?

It was the start of an amazing barrage of public profanity in epic proportions...

Now, I'm as bad as then next events technical staff member when it come to extended time on the road - 'Events Tourettes' we call it. Usually takes me a week or so to rein in my language after a long stint in the field. But this woman put me to shame... Her range creative profane embellishment and command of invective would embarrass a sailor...

She dropped the F-Bomb three times in the first minute I was at the bar-

(Being the good statistician that I am, I had to start keeping track...)

Her use of the F-Word was remarkable... She used it as a noun, a verb, an adjective, adverb, pronoun, article and a participle at one time or another over the 40 minutes I was in the bar.

The final count- in 40 minutes over 110 utterances of the F-Word (or variations like MFer) alone.

I didn't count the rest of the expletives like d*mn, sh!t, and the oh-so-popular 'C0cks^ck3r' - (her second-most used multi-function word) but there was a ton of them.

She reminded me of the line from 'A Christmas Story'...

"He worked in profanity the way other artists might work in oils or clay. It was his true medium; a master."

This woman has picked up the gauntlet of challenge and is striving to bring a new range and timbre to recreational cussing...

Salute.