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10/4/00 In bed this morning with Cinde, who slept in my roommate's empty bed last night: "...And then he said the only reason why he was asking was because he was interested in what American girls think of infidelity. Can you believe that?" I said. "That a guy said that? Yes, I can believe that," said Cinde. We both rolled our eyes. "Whatevs," I said. Cinde started giggling. "What?" I said. "'Whatevs.'I haven't heard that word in a while." "Oh yes," I said. "I'm bringing it back. You didn't get the press release?" "No," said Cinde. "Goddammit. Amanda!" I called out to my imaginary assistant, Amanda. I was so sick of her shit. She was the worst imaginary assistant I had ever had. "Amanda! How many times do I have to tell you that on all matters to do with language, Cinde is on the top of the list. She is the fucking list." My imaginary assistant didn't respond. She was probably cowering in a corner somewhere. "I'm sorry about that Cinde." In a hushed voice, I said, "Look, I told Amanda to take care of it. You know hard it is to find a decent imaginary assistant these days." "Whatevs," said Cinde happily. She was fine with everything. But you know, it's not fine with me. I think I'm going to have a talk with Amanda. I just don't know if she's working out. |