Stupid dirty hippies

I spent yesterday at an all-day conference in Manhattan for work. A few colleagues flew in from Boston to join me, including my awesome second work wife, Shannon. We split up to attend the first session, and after 10 minutes, my iPhone buzzed.

Email from Shannon:
Aaarggh this is so painful

I sent back:
I am in fucking hippie central

Shannon:
Ditch your session and let's meet for more coffee

And that's why I love her. (She's also a fucking drunk, which rocks, and if I were straight, I'd marry her in a heartbeat.)

But really, you should have seen the people there. A large portion of them worked for nonprofits, so I guess they don't get paid very well, but I don't think that's an excuse for any of the following:

- Bad shoes
- Mustaches (on women!)
- Unplucked eyebrows
-Wearing mixed shades of brown and black, all ugly
- Body odor
- Flood pants

I passed the time by giving everyone mental makeovers. The only time I was jolted awake was when a girl trying to explain online petitions pointed to my shoes and said, "It would be like if we created a petition to get this guy to change his shoes."

I looked at her, looked down at my shoes, and looked back at her before saying, "Uh, you've got to be joking, right?"

Out of all the bad shoes at this conference, sweetheart, don't you fucking dare point me out.

I will cut you.