4 male ponytails
The other morning, when I sat down at the back bench of the #4 bus, there were only 2 male ponytails on the entire bus, one up front (Ponytail #1), then one sitting near ME, who had thin, unkempt hair, kinda fuzzy and balding on top, then as you go down the length of the ponytail, you can see where the gray used to be red not so long ago… Fastener of Choice? One of those Goody ponytail holders that you wore your pigtails in when you were 8. With the little colored plastic balls? His was green, so maybe that was a conscious choice to complement the formerly red hair.
Then Ponytail #3 gets on the bus and sits between me and Ponytail #2. His hair is red throughout (although he was older, maybe the same age as PT #2) and twisted tight, then styled in this really elaborate up-do. Fastener of Choice? This wooden chopstick thingie embellished with what looked to be Celtic carvings. He lends more proof to the receding hairline theorem that my brain’s grabbing onto at this point. He REEKS of bargain cologne and is wearing an unstructured (and UNfashionable) jacket of natural fibers.
At Lyndale/Franklin, Ponytail #4 gets on and sits directly across from PT #3. He’s younger, dressed like it’s 1992 (motorcycle jacket and stonewashed jeans, anyone?) and proves the hairline theorem beyond reasonable doubt. Fastener of Choice? Nondescript rubber binder. They begin chatting about (any guesses?) THEATRE. Ugh. Not even good theatre, like… LOCAL theatre. They both begin affecting this air of high culture, yet are betrayed by their sub-par manner of dress. They escalate their attempts to one-up each other on critical knowledge of “the biz,” which creates increasingly loud and self-conscious laughter from both. Each gesture and guffaw, bringing the noxious cloud of cheap cologne ever closer to my personal space…
And that’s how my day began. Stepping off of that bus into the fumes of Hennepin Ave and homeless and guys hitting on me was like breathing for the first time in a grassy meadow full of deer.
May 3rd, 2007 at 3:32 am
Wow.
“Not even good theatre, like…LOCAL theatre.”
Wow again. From all of us involved in the local theatre scene — all of us actors, writers, directors, dramaturgs, designers and loyal audience members, thanks so much for enlightening us to the quality of our theatre scene. Somehow we were under the horribly mistaken impression that there was excellent theatre to be had here in town — that Minneapolis offered a wealth of great theatre to be seen, even at the low-budget level, thanks to our vibrant arts community. But CLEARLY, we were all mistaken. And you, you Maven and Expert on everything from coiffeurs to fashion to live entertainment, have cleared our blinded eyes like a shot of Visine ™. Thank you for helping us to see that what we thought was good theatre is actually rubbish, that what might have been actual theatre knowledge and experience coming from these mid-chat men on the bus was SURELY idiotic fakery, and that — of course — ponytails and natural fibers on men are a terrifying sign of the coming apocalypse — the Universal Death of All Things Tasteful.
I am SO glad we all have you to set us straight…
…you blazing, astonishingly egomaniacal IDIOT.
May 3rd, 2007 at 4:11 pm
I read that as “Not even good theatre, like [for example]… LOCAL theatre.” Meaning they were talking about who knows what other distant involvements, and not the scene here.
May 5th, 2007 at 4:20 pm
Folks, take a breath… she/he/it is spending his/her/their free time worried about other people’s interaction, yet has no time to do any of their own, except to a nameles, faceless, crowd such as us. I don’t know about you, but I read this for giggles. I don’t take it farther than that….
May 8th, 2007 at 1:20 pm
Um. Minneapolis is supposed to have some of the nation’s best local theater communities.
And, as an actual fashion expert, I would also like to say that the male ponytail *is* in style again and can be done very well.
Jun 6th, 2007 at 5:27 am
remember that under every ponytail there is an a***hole
Mar 17th, 2008 at 2:56 pm
Wow, you theatre kids sure get your undies in a bunch easily, don’t you?