good advertising…

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good advertising…, originally uploaded by jolinjojobeans.

Cross the bridge over to Long Beach Island and you won’t miss this HOMAGE to advertising. Really, some execs have a few things to learn about product placement.

Was over at my friend’s apartment yesterday and the topic of Weirdos That You Meet On The Street came up. We both agreed that unlike on tv (case in point : Entourage latest episode – Vince gets approached by beautiful girl in bookstore) in REAL LIFE, only ugly fat balding jobless skanky dirty weirdos come up to you and start a conversation. Very much like MY most recent experience at the local Borders.

Monday.8:30pm. Location: Borders Philadelphia
I am leafing through New Englander travel magazine.
Bespectacled pasty white Man in white t-shirt (sweat stains visible), gym shorts and bicycle helmet grabs random newspaper and reads it while standing beside me.
I notice his close presence and ignore him.
Man decides that this is good sign for him to begin conversation

Man : So, do you like to travel?
Me (standing under giant TRAVEL department sign) : uh, yes.
Man : OOOOOHHHHHH.. (smiles perversely)

At this point it is obvious Man has bad teeth too.
I bury my head further in magazine.

Man : So, do you travel a lot?
Me : uh.. no (lies)
Man : OOOOOHhhhhhh ….. (smiles perversely like it’s the most interesting thing he has ever heard) Are you traveling to New England?
Me (holding NEW ENGLANDER TRAVEL magazine) : err… I am planning to. (resumes studying magazine with furious intensity)
Man : OOOOoooOOOooOOOhhh (glazed crosseyes light up. It’s the most amazing plan he has ever heard). So, what’s there to see there?(buggy eyes bulge further)

This painful exchange goes on for another 5 minutes or so. Finally Man has run out of newspaper to fake flip through and he has to move on to new magazine. I wait til he’s at least 10 pages in (and thus committed to reading said magazine) and grab the opportunity to dart for nearest door. Walking back to my apartment I constantly look back for signs of his bicycle helmet following me. The coast is clear. I still make one fake pass past my door to be sure he’s off my trail.

Who knew bookstores were so dangerous…