"A Reader Named Gregg"
I slept with this mysterious man last night -- the guy (above) the LA Times' Steve Harvey mentions in his mention of my blogslapping of Eva Burgess. And he didn't e-mail me; he posted a comment on my blog. Steve Harvey writes:
Amy Alkon said she was in the Rose Cafe in Venice "trying to listen to the classical music and enjoy my breakfast" when a loud woman at the next table called an eye doctor on a cellphone to make an appointment. It was too much for Alkon, an advice columnist concerned with what she calls "the disintegration of public manners."As the woman "shouted her information so anybody near her could (and, in fact, was forced to) hear it," Alkon wrote, "I took notes (rather conspicuously) and then posted the information, including her phone number, on my blog."
...Alkon concedes that she has heard from several people who "didn't like what I did." But apart from whether she was justified, a reader named Gregg e-mailed her about another aspect of the case. Whatever happened, he asked, "to good old fashioned paranoia? I won't say anything personal or (about) business to anybody unless I'm behind closed doors and the room has been swept for bugs."
I'd pitched the idea of doing a feature or regular features on my "interventions" on the undercivilized to the LA Times' West magazine. Naturally, they turned me down. At what point -- if ever -- do you think the LA Times' features sections will ever run my column or any piece of my writing? Predictions?
At what point -- if ever -- do you think the LA Times' features sections will ever run my column or any piece of my writing? Predictions?
When Matt Welch gets a big promotion.
LYT at January 21, 2007 2:08 PM
Heh heh...I'd vote for him for editor of the whole deal. He'd be great.
Amy Alkon at January 22, 2007 12:08 AM
Does anyone else think it looks like this dark mystery man is walking into a church? Just sayin'
Crid at January 22, 2007 3:57 AM
It's Paris...just outside the Palais Royale.
Amy Alkon at January 22, 2007 6:01 AM
No prediction here, but I have my own way of dealing with the boorish cellphone loudtalker. I join the conversation... VERY LOUDLY. It usually sends them into brainlock.
Casca at January 30, 2007 12:15 AM
I do that. In fact, I did it today, to a woman shouting about her back problem, and she burst into tears. "This is my only time I have to myself!" Boohoohoo.
(Very bad. This suggests you are not only boorish, but you've been fertile.)
"What if my agent calls?!" Lady, you're practically 50. If you haven't blown your way to a starring role yet, you're unlikely to do so anytime soon.
Oh yes, and then there was the "It's a public place!" defense. I'm preparing a technologically driven answer to that one. Heh.
Amy Alkon at January 30, 2007 12:31 AM
Amy, you're a wit, and I love you.
Casca at January 30, 2007 10:51 PM
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