[LEMONS] 11.06.2001
The other night, Jeff Harper and I were riding back in a Taxi from the Embarcadero Bart to the Haight. Along the way, we passed one of the new Calvin Klein ads featuring sullen boy, Travis. We were all a little taken aback; me Harp, Jeff, the cabbie, you name it. None of us were, um, comfortable with Travis' level of comfort. The next day, I saw a Macy's ad in the Chron, featuring Travis (which is where I found out his name, of course he doesn't have a last one), and inviting all to come meet him at Macy's. "Why would I want to do that," I thought, "Travis is, unfortunately, everywhere." And I do mean *everywhere*. He's smuggling squash all up and down Market Street. (and if you haven't seen Travis in action on the street, here's a picture I snapped this morning with my new camera):
Here's what I don't get about Travis: is this supposed to make me want to buy underwear? I mean, even if I did go for the banana hammock, I could never walk into a store now and buy a pair of CK skivvies without feeling completely gay (NTTAWWT). And as for ladies... well. Let's just say that you do go in and buy your gent a pair of the Travis' specials, I'm guessing that you're going to find your fella doesn't quite, um, fill his shoes/ measure up/ fit the mold/ stuff - a - pair - of - shorts - like - twelve - tube - socks - crammed - in - a - coin-purse. And to head off the criticisms at the pass, Travis doesn't make me feel insecure or, well, you know. But really, at 8 a.m., the last damn thing I need to see is Travis' dingle dangling.
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