A Different Sort of Fairytale
A description by the author as a young girl meeting the call of urgent call of nature in a Senegalese airport bathroom brings new meaning to phrase fairytale. This is one enchanted land you probably don’t want to ever experience yourself:
“As soon as I walked inside, I knew I didn’t want to be in there for very long. It smelled like a urine fairy was floating around the bathroom, blowing his pee-pee breath ever-so-delicately directly up my nostrils.”
Food
The author is a breakfast person. Lunch and dinner are serviceable as a means of gaining the nutrients one needs to survive but eating as an aesthetic experience belongs to breakfast. And she metaphorically expands upon the significance of food to her idea of the experience of living a full life:
“Food is my destination, my journey, my reward, my friend—if only my metabolism matched that of the skinny, crackhead-bodied girls of my high school.”
The Idiot at Work
Near the end of the book is found a chapter that comprehensively lists the various types of unpleasant co-workers one is likely to come up against. And for each type of unpleasant co-worker she also provides helpful advice on how to deal with that particular nuisance. “The Idiot” is one such type that is, of course, all-too-plentiful:
“This person is dead weight, and you want nothing more than to sink her at the bottom of the ocean.”
Dating and Halloween
How does one draw a connection between the dating scene and Halloween ritual? One might naturally leap immediately to masks or costumes because of, you know, deception and stuff. Turns out, it’s all about the sweet, sweet treats rather than the trickery:
“If dating were an assortment of Halloween candy, black women and Asian men would be the Tootsie Rolls and candy corn—the last to be eaten, if even at all”
That’s Pretty Ugly
In discussing a family history trait of the women not having the greatest luck with men, the author focuses especially one of her favorite Senegalese aunts. The metaphorical interpretation of a complete absence of physical attractiveness is one of the highlights of the use of similes in the book:
“His face looked like God said, `I just . . . I can’t. I’m tired. Let me see what I can do with these leftovers.’”
