7pm: cap and trade sexual emissions at book court, where there will be free wine, cheese, and -- yes -- vegan condom samples in honor of eco-sex, a guide to going green between the sheets.¹As part of my "job," I sent the Skint man a few blurbs for Pete's Candy Store's reading series, including one for last night: "7:30pm: fine female novelists jami attenberg and diana spechler head to pete's candy store to charm the audience with their literary selections."
Unfortunately one of the authors took issue with being labeled a "fine female novelist," saying: "Turns out the only publicity we received tonight mentioned we were women. They should have added we have vaginas too."
I was mortified, since I was sitting next to a friend I hadn't seen in a bit, and asked the author when she was done why she was offended with the listing -- especially since I (a woman, the last time I checked) wrote it and admire her work. She quickly apologized.
Now, this isn't the first time I caused trouble at a book event. Earlier last year, I went to KGB Bar with Joe Katz. Author Simon Van Booy mentioned that he was going to read a short story inspired by the time he spent in Greenpoint. Joe and I, both Greenpointers, were excited to hear his tale.
Simon read this lovely story -- his writing is very Romantic -- about a couple shopping in a drugstore with a disco ball on the ceiling, calling it a CVS.²
"There's no CVS in Greenpoint!" I yelled from the audience, embarrassing both me and the (poor) author. The reading went on, and I apologized immediately afterward to Simon. He said he'd get Harper Collins to correct the error on the next printing, but here's the original.
If there's any moral to the story, it's that you can't take me anywhere.
¹ I'm really proud of the events (at lest five) I wrote up on the Veterans Day newsletter.
² Joe Katz happens to live behind this building too, and its caretakers don't seem to be good neighbors.