I started teaching again, helping kids beat the SAT system. All this stuff I worked out painstakingly during the exam itself has been collated by others in their own way, put into a formula, and wrapped up for sale. And I’m a bit of the bow tie on the package, which is why I dress up. (Madge, on seeing me, made a purring “rrrrr” sound and then, after saying I look handsome, said I look “rich.” – That girl knows how to give a compliment.)
Now I just need to put The Perfect Score on my list of Netflix movies.
The place I’m teaching this time around is Great Neck. Which, in itself, is a pretty funny name if you think about it, though not as smirkily funny as Flatbush – snicker snicker. Before you get funny ideas, let me tell you that I had the same thought – in what universe is “Flatbush” a good thing, something to name a street or a district after? – but it’s just an awkward transliteration of some Dutch word (Vlackebos or some such creature) which means wooded plain. Our silly thoughts were better, no?
Anyway, when you ride the LIRR out of Great Neck, you hear these stations announced: “Great Neck,” “Little Neck,” “Double Chin.”
Well, the sign at the station read “Douglaston,” but I swear I heard the other.
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1 comment:
ha -- a few years ago my friend hilary said she refused to move to flatbush because "it calls to mind untrimmed women in tight jeans"...
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