(Had this one in my buffer but forgot to post it; the debut of pal Alex's new blog, Train Mama, reminded me. Which, you should check it out).
Today on the subway, two kind of classic Queens boyz (the accent, the clothes, the manner of speaking, general presentation). One's interjecting the word "fuck" between every other word. They're talking about TV's, stereo equipment, something. Prices, models, numbers, numbers.
Then the one sitting across from me says he's gettin' a manicure, and maybe a pedicure. I look at him; he's rather prominently missing a tooth. I flash on a recent conversation about dentistry, or the lack thereof, being a class signifier, and wonder where hetboy pedicures fit into that equation. (Later the guy does say he's got a dentist appointment coming up).
Guy next to me is all, "Aw, that's so fuckin' gay." Some more back and forth, the gist of which I gather being that while it may indeed be fuckin' gay if you do too much of that shit, guy-across is still going for it, the pedicure. Guy next to me continues:
"And dude, what about these fuckin' facials. You know that shit? That shit is like, facials, they take off all your fuckin' blackheads, no shit."