I Like Killing Flies

Hello dear readers.

I am home sick today with some sort of stomach flu or food poisoning. I am not happy about this as I am not a fan of dehydration-induced delirium.

The good news is that D, growing every more spectacular by the minute, gave me an Ali G DVD to watch today as well as Sandman Volume 1, which was apparently my Christmas gift and which he forced upon me because of my sickness.

Little does he know that I am recording a song for him, even though I am delirious! Ha! That will show him! He too will be happy!!!

Nevertheless...

Pre-food poisoning, D and I had intended to see Blade 3 but because we are in the beginning and because the butterflies are fierce, we missed the movie and ended up going to a really late dinner, after which we watched "Harold and Kumar go to White Castle." Damn was it good. It was surprisingly intelligent and one of the funniest movies I've ever seen. You should all see it. Really. All I need to say is Neil Patrick Harris. Now you want to see it, right?

The point of this entry is that prior to my leaving Boston, I went to the Boston Independent Film Festival with my friends S and T. We saw a documentary entitled "I Like Killing Flies,' which was about a diner in New York City called Shopsin's. Shopsin's is this crazy place run by an equally crazy/curmudgeonly man who looks a bit like Jerry Garcia, who when not cooking everything himself is prone to entertaining and philosophical monologues . There are rules to get into his restaurant - such as no parties of four or more - and there are like 47 million things on the menu.

We talked about the movie afterwards, and while I wasn't impressed with the filmmaking itself, I was impressed by its subject matter - Shopsin and his restaurant are really unique characters, and interesting slices of life. Ah, New York! Its inhabitants are quirky and wonderful. I remember thinking "I'd like to at the very least walk by that place and check it out." Not that I ever thought I would, because would I even remember? And if so, would I be able to find it?

Last night we were walking to dinner at this noodle place - the probable cause of my stomach issues - and we walked right by Shopsin's. Shopsin's is only one block from D's apartment, which is only a few blocks from work. Weird!

I said "Oh my god - is that THE Shopsin's?"

D said "Yeah, it used to be around the corner," which confirmed that it was THE Shopsin's because the documentary was about how Shopsin was forced to move to a new location around the corner from his original location.

"WOW. Have you ever been in there?"

"No, it looks kind of sketchy. Like dirty. I dunno. It just doesn't look good."

I was mortified. To me, it's a place with infinite charm and 4217 different kinds of pancakes. It's a character. It is larger than life. I said "The dude who runs it is a nut. He's awesome."

D hadn't seen nor heard of the documentary, so when I told him what I knew he became intrigued and said we should go there some time.

But I don't want to, because I am afraid Shopsin won't let me in because he doesn't like my hair.

We looked in the window, and I felt sort of sad. I don't know why. I guess its sort of like growing up - in my mind, because of the movie, it was this magical place where all sorts of bizarre things are constantly occurring and where ideas are had and laughter is constant and where food becomes philosopy. It was closed when we walked by, and from the outside it looked ordinary. Regular. Normal. Like any other diner with only 4 kinds of pancakes.

Why is it so often disappointing when things become real?