Ray's

I was on my way uptown to attend an evening event at a gallery, when I suddenly found myself a bit peckish.  So decided to stop off for a slice at Ray’s.  I wasn’t sure if it was a branch of the reputedly good Ray’s, or just one of the many knockoff establishments that had figured out how to mix the words “Ray’s,” “Original,” and “Famous” into a healthy profit.  But at the moment, I was hungry enough that it didn’t matter.

I wandered inside and decided to take the obnoxiously long line as a good sign.  As I was waiting patiently, a man walked up behind me and said, “quality of life, huh?”  I turned around and found a man who didn’t look exactly homeless, but didn’t look exactly un-homeless.  After a brief staring match, he pointed at my bag, which was a free gift from an AIDS media company I once worked for, and I realized that he thought I had AIDS.  I didn’t feel like explaining that I don’t have AIDS, I just have a bag that says AIDS on the side, so instead, I said “Yeah,” and shrugged.

After I got back to pretending to decide what kind of slice I wanted, a few moments of silence passed.  Then the guy, still engrossed in my bag, said “Media!  You work in the media?”  I confirmed his suspicions, and he added “I read today that, uh, Apple can track you with, like, iPods.”  Accepting that this conversation wasn’t going away any time soon, I said “Yeah, I heard that, too.  It’s crazy.”  My new friend just stared at me for a minute, then very loudly exclaimed, “Whaddya think of that?”  But before I could give any insight, he immediately turned around and walked outside.

I really need a new bag.

-TC