Planet Khaki

Saturday night, Toby Joe and I had dinner at Planet Thailand in Williamsburg. Planet Thailand is an O.K. place to eat. It’s not the best Thai/Japanese food I’ve ever had but it’s certainly not the worst either. We go there on occasion especially when I am craving sushi. You see, all the other Thai places in Williamsburg specialize specifically in Thai. The sushi places specialize in sushi. Planet Thailand specializes in both. So their name is a bit deceiving. It’s not only Thai food they serve at Planet Thailand. It should be called “Planet Japan and Thailand” or simply just “Planet”. On Saturday evening, we decided on Planet Japan and Thailand because I wanted both sushi AND vegetarian duck.

Mistake Number One: Visiting Williamsburg at 9:30 PM on a Saturday night.

I know this next part is going to sound entirely 9th grade of me, but where do all The Khakis come from? My friend, Gerry, uses this term “Khakis”. It makes me laugh. While I know exactly the type of people he’s referring to, I think this breed needs a more detailed description.

The men are usually big up top because they spend a lot of time in the gym trying to impress other non-gay men at the gym with their muscles. They’re usually not very fit—a little pudgy around the beer holding (or rum and coke-holding) mid-section. They tend to have the same hair cut. The hair is cut short, like buzzed short, especially on the sides. On top it might be wee bit longer, but not much. I think they visit their non-gay hairstylist and ask for “The Nead” a cut that marries the head and neck thereby blurring the boundary between what holds up the head and the head itself. And the muscles they gain don’t help their cause, or do help their cause, I guess it depends on who you’re asking. I really like necks, jaw lines and chins. I like knowing where the head begins and the neck ends. Sometimes, boundaries are good. But I imagine that some ladies like a full Nead.

They often wear light colors. I see horizontal stripes up top and usually it’s a button down. Usually the button downs are fitted so they can show of their non-gay man muscles and their lady-luring loins. Their pants are usually khaki or pale. And sometimes, the more attractive individuals wear jeans because they fit into a non-stretchy variety of pants.

What I have mentioned so far would be easily overlooked and ignored should it not be for their voices. Generally speaking, I hate their voices. Given we live near New Jersey and Long Island, The Local Khakis’ voices are even worse. (My New Jersey relatives, I hope you can find it in your hearts and forgive me for saying such a thing.) We are forced to listen to their throaty, loud words touched with that Long Island or New Jersey draw. For example, “Water” is not water. It’s “Wooter.” And “Long” becomes “Lawng”. It’s really just something one must hear firstear. The women don’t sound so bad. In fact, sometimes it can be a little cute. I don’t want anyone thinking that I hate every one who speaks with a Long Island/New Jersey accent, I just don’t like testosterone bags with said accent.

Mistake Number Two: Actually sticking around.

We waited 45 minutes for a table. The place was swarming with Khakis. And not only was it slammed at Planet Thailand, either. EVERY INCH OF WILLIAMSBURG – home of the hipsters, home of irony and greasy hair, Guns and Roses, bad tattoos – was swarming with Khakis. Which begs the question, where are all of these people coming from? And once that question is asked, one must wonder WHY are they coming?

They’re Here. They’re Queer. Get Used to It.

During our 45-minute wait, the fella behind me who was on a date quickly irked me. It was Saturday night. His date was a charming blond. She dressed to the nines. She left her apartment excited. This could be the night she’d meet the man of her dreams.

The man of her dreams wore his phone earpiece the ENTIRE time. In mid conversation, he’d answer the phone.

Yeah! – Hold on, baby. I gotta take this. – Yeah, what’s up? Uhuh. Yeah. After dinner. Yeah, man. Cool! Aiight. Later.

Along the right side of the bar, a little further from Toby and I was a group of four. The girls sipped pink cosmos, the boys their rum and Cokes. The men became louder and louder in a desperate attempt to outdo one another with their vast knowledge in the eclectic world of Thai cuisine. The girls giggled between their freshly French manicured fingernails. All four of them together reminded me of the days I spent working in SoHo and walking past the open doors of Sephora. No one should be forced to endure the smell of that many man made, alcohol based perfumes at one time. It should be illegal. And I

30 Comments

  1. You forgot the Dolce & Gabana dudes with their yeast-infection-tight $900 jeans and silk shirts patterned after the carpeting found in tacky hotels (or DC apartment buildings).

    It’s not JUST the Gap and Brooks Brothers folks taking over, but the Long Island cum Ibiza disco wankers in SUVs. Granted, the former moving in creating a space for the latter to drive in on the weekends…

    Watching gentrification make a second pass so quickly is quite fun. I imagine Gerry and Jon are gonna have to move soon…

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  2. But those men really ARE gay.

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  3. yeah, yeah. Khakis/Wooter = New Jersey, D&G = Long Island.

    Living in Philadelphia, New Jersey, I feel for you.

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  4. I thought about that weird accent we heard in Cape May. What was that one? Super odd.

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  5. hmmm. don’t remember that one. Deep South Jersey, perhaps?

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  6. You don’t remember? weird. Maybe you’ll remember Toby Joe trying desperately to reenact it?

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  7. vaguely… perhaps my brain is blocking it out in its slow, yet persistent efforts to convert my speech patterns to conform to the Philly/NJ standards.

    on two occassions recently I said toy like toy-ee. lord help me.

    and if i ever say “down the shore” you have free reign to smack me. hard.

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  8. I’m wearing Khakis right now.

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  9. I am the ugly American
    I hate what I am
    I am the ugly American
    I hate what I am
    I take a picture of your founding father
    I hate a picture of your local color
    I take a picture of your founding father
    I take a picture of your local color
    We’re so ugly, we’re so ugly
    We’re so ugly
    I am the ugly American
    I am the ugly American
    I am the ugly American
    I hate what you are
    Take a picture of your declasse
    Take a picture and you only say
    Take a picture of your ugly country
    Take a picture and you only say
    I am the ugly American
    I am the ugly American
    I am the ugly American
    I hate what you are
    Take a picture of your declasse
    Take a picture of your declasse
    Take a picture and you only say
    Take a picture and you only say
    We’re so ugly, we’re so ugly
    We’re so ugly
    I am the ugly American
    I know what I am
    I am the ugly American
    I am what I am
    Say you’re cultured ‘cause you had a king?
    Your little boys sleep with their sisters
    I am the ugly American
    I know what I am
    I am the ugly American
    I love what I am

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  10. I get the distinct feeling that today’s post is pissing people off. Judging by the email. What can I say, I too am an Ugly American.

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  11. it’s been like that for at least 2 years… it kinda reached the peak last summer

    outside of sea tends to be the worst, because they filmed an episode of that shitty show and that suburban angst movie there too, so everyone has to visit. mostly suburban people coming in because they get to experience nyc without a bridge (which makes it easier to drive), and NYU students who can’t afford to go out around NYU.

    the worst is people giving you looks because you’re carrying groceries as if they’re saying “eh, YOU live here?” and you want to snap back “you drive 40 minutes to hang out here?”

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  12. Just wanted to let you know before I shut my computer down that a lot of what you were saying in your post today, is so true. I do the same. I am constantly wondering what others are doing….I especially had those views when living in Adam’s Morgan in DC. We used to sit on our front porch and make fun of those who would come in from MD and VA just to party in DC. Yeah, it was shallow, but it was so fun!!!! :o)

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  13. for the record – New Jersey and I are perfect together.

    The nature of tourism is for the locals to feel superior to the green tourists. pretty much anywhere you go.

    For example, I bet the St. Maarteners are smiling at SCBobs and Momhow’s pale, Pennsylvania complexions

    (probably not, but it makes me feel better since I am jealous that the mihows are in St. Maarten)

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  14. that’s going to be my new catchphrase:

    “I think it’s a rice kind of night.” it’s so great because I can use for various situation (as opposed to just big drinking nights):

    wife: hun, want do you want to do for dinner?
    me: hmmm, let me see…..i’m feeling a little frisky, so I think it’s a rice kind of night. need the carbs, y’know

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  15. I found your post today hilarious. Is that wrong? Fun posts about observing loud, obnoxious people just amuse me.

    When I was growing up at the Jersey shore (Belmar, Ocean Grove, Pt. Pleasant area) we always made fun of the tourists. You know the ones – dressed up driving around in their brand-new black mercedes…stopping at the “cute quaint” italian ice place where me and my family were just trying to enjoy some lemon ice in our shorts and flip flops. Bennies.

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  16. yup, maddie. Shoo-bees. everyone’s got em.

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  17. Oh how I love the Jersey Shore.

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  18. Hi. You don’t know me.

    Nor I you.

    But, after stumbling across this place completely by accident, I must say, what a cracking read.

    Yup.

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  19. Thank you, friendly commenter whom I do not know and who not knows me.

    I’d like to take this opportunity to admit, after just getting around to actually rereading this gibberish, I used the wrong use of “Their”. I used “They’re”. It’s been corrected, but don’t I feel like the biggest moron? Oh yes, yes, I do.

    Why can’t people send me mean email regarding my grammar instead of my content?

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  20. You also misspelled ‘Khaki’ in your title:)

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  21. Damn Mihow. All of the khaki loving types must have hit your blog today. I thought it was funny too, because I pick on the “Hipster” kids all the time.

    The ones we have here hang out at the bookstore ALL THE TIME, but they never buy any books. It tickles me. They just hang out in their glasses and their hair gel and look hip. I love those kids.

    Lay off of my Mihow people, she’s just being her usual funny self.

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  22. MelHow—DAMMIT! Thanks. :] But are you sure you don’t want to email me letting me know as much? Use words like “Asshole” and “Dickhead”.
    Amanda, marry me. I’ve seen you as a bride. You’re hot.

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  23. I so hope I never get taken for a “khaki” in my khakis. “No, no, I’m not a Khaki. Heaven Forbid!! Me, I’m a geek.”

    Then again, I don’t suffer from Boozlimia, so at least I have that going for me.

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  24. Having khakis doesn’t deem anyone the title of The Khaki. Being an obnoxious prick with a bad haircut, stuffed into a pair of khakis and talking about their future vomit consistency deems one “The Khaki” at least in reference to the above story. And to be honest with you, the khakis are the expendable part of the uniform.

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  25. I understand your dislike for the “khaki” I call em yups, but….

    1. Guns n’ Roses are about as non billburg hipster as anything out there, GnR was about sex drugs, rock n roll, money, and being politically incorrect while the moajority of the lil hipster fucks then to be just the opposite of that.
    2. The Bklyn waterfront is not exactly “your” neighborhood unless of course you lived in billburg when the heroin dealers were the common commodity, and wasnt it the rich whote 20 somethings that displaced most of the local residents anyways.

    Otherwise, kudos on the blog. Cheers,

    Mr. Sprinkles a.k.a. el Jacek

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  26. Yep. First, it’s the drug dealers and the poor. Next up, come the starving artists. Next, the hipster kids with trust-funds. Then, the Thai restaurants. Then, the police. And last but not least, the rich white folks.
    I live in Greenpoint under the BQE with my polish people. It smells like shit there. The Italian people are pissed that we’re taking over Graham avenue. It’s a never-ending math equation.

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  27. I totally hear you, though I’ve been speaking with some people from MIT and here’s what they came up with. e=x3/((yPi)/x2))*5%n^t

    where n=total population of neighborhood, e is displacement rate, y is move in rate, and n is static population. t is time. Though, personally I find the equation to be comepletely off centre.

    And I thought the Poles were moving to Ridgewood…. Interesting.

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  28. Incidentally, I have had the GnR conversation before about how humorous it was when every politically correct person around was reintroducing them into their lives even though there is that one song in particular that is one of the most racist, homophobic songs out there. And to think they didn’t even need to get on stage and sing a duet with Elton John to smooth it all over.
    Sometimes, we pay attention to only whatever it is we want.

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  29. i snorted outloud twice while reading this……….i’m so excited that drive-by shootings are becoming more popular in my new hometown. guess i got off DEVO STREET when i had a chance!!!!!!

    Reply

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