OK,here is an example of how I endlessly amuse myself. I laugh every time I think of it, though you might not.
Last weekend I was hanging out in NYC with my old roommate, C. She is a special ed teacher who manages concesions at Summer Stage in Central Park during the summer. She's a hugely knowledgeable music fan, esp. with regard to hip-hop, reggae, Latin music, etc. When I told her we were going to see Damian Marley this week, she said that she had met him this year at Summer Stage and given him a note.
"Like, a note with your phone number?" I asked incredulously.
"Yeah," she replied, a little defensive. "I mean, it was just scribbled on the back of an ice receipt. I just said 'thank you' and another message and my name and number." She tried to shrug it off like that's a normal thing to do.
I couldn't let it go. "Thank you, as in 'thank you for the music'?" I was already laughing a little bit. "And what was the rest of the message? 'Dear Damian, I'm sorry about your dad. I really like your hair...' "
"Shut up!" she said defensively. C is a 90 lb Brooklyn native with an impenetrable Goodfellas accent and masses of curly blond hair. She tutors underprivileged children in her spare time, and also smokes a lot of weed. "It wasn't like that at all. It was...poetic, and...revolutionary. I'm not going to tell you what it said because you're laughing at me!" She had to raise her voice a little because I was giggling loudly. I can be a real bitch sometimes.
I tried to get more details about the note out of her, but she wasn't budging (except to say that the ice receipt had been signed for by an employee named Jesus, and she thought that the reason Damian never called her was that he was afraid she was a missionary bent on converting him away from Rastafarianism.)
A few minutes later, as she and my sister were well into another subject, I interrupted. "I know!" I said, already cracking up. "The note said 'I really enjoyed Welcome to Jamrock [his latest album], and I'd love to see your cock.' "
"NO!" She was horrified. "It was nothing like that! Damian would have been so offended!" She had pushed away from the table, as though moving away from me could make the whole idea go away.
"But you did say it was poetic."
"I hate you."