Going back to the JANE magazine days, I made myself and my staffers do these wacko stunts for a series called Pranks. They have always been the hardest assignments to convince writers to do, the column that JANE editors asked me to kill every single month because it was such a pain, and one of the best-read features. Right now we're in the middle of doing a Prank where we all wear shirts that are the most potentially offensive to the people we come into contact with regularly. (For Emily, I'm deciding between making her wear one that reads "Rehab Is For Quitters" and another one I found: "A Well-Balanced Person Has A Drink In Both Hands.")
I wasn't even supposed to start yet, but have so much natural-born Prankster in me and knew that I was going to encounter plenty of moms with their kids today, as well as business people who expect me to be professional, and, well, the truth is, I was in a hurry to get out the door this morning and just grabbed my self-assigned T-shirt 'cause it was on the top of my clothing pile.
I ran into Heidi Klum on the street on the way to work. My babysitter was 15 minutes late (no prob at all, Monica -- I understand) and, therefore, so was I. Heidi, who I have known very peripherally for about 13 years since she modeled in a JANE mag fashion story, was wearing a long summer gown, was NOT harried like me (see video) and seemed unimpressed by my outfit. She sort of pulled one of her kids away from looking at me. I can understand that too. Maybe she just thought I was being weird and stalkerish and wanted to get away from me. Who knows?
In the car on my way to the office for a big Sales Meeting.
Now you (and all of these other nattily-dressed and appropriate SAY staffers) can see the lovely slogan on the back of my shirt. Around the office in general, though, my shirt is well-received. SAY is a cool place. An assistant told me "most of my friends were strippers -- I really like that shirt."
At the fancy doctor's. On the way here, I get a thumbs up on the street and one scowl from an elderly woman and her dog.
The end of what he says (before my phone runs out of space AGAIN) is, "Would you be my girlfriend?" On the way back to the office, I collect a few more unsolicited phone numbers from guys. None from any girls (boo-hoo). A passing-by priest looks sad.
OK, I faked the "Marry Me" one.