Word: companionism
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Because they were so famously gutsy, the FM executive board of 1992 have a lot of wild memories. Phil Rubin, then magazine co-editor, remembers the time he went to a chintzy hotel lounge in Dedham for a singles' mixer party. He and his companion were hunting down material for that week's Scrutiny. He recalls, "After partying with the singles, then we returned, marching through the snow. We came back to The Crimson and wrote it the same night. Drunk...
...roommate Emily is the perfect companion for this excursion because she is genuinely excited about it. "Girls night out! Cheesy bar! What should we wear?" She says. Emily raises an important point: Wardrobe is essential--we need to fit in. We take our cue from the B.C. girls we remember from the Grille freshman year, and she sports black pants and a tight sweater while I choose a tank-top and jeans. Black boots all around. We are ready...
...roommate Emily is the perfect companion for this excursion because she is genuinely excited about it. "Girls night out! Cheesy bar! What should we wear?" She says. Emily raises an important point: Wardrobe is essential--we need to fit in. We take our cue from the B.C. girls we remember from the Grille freshman year, and she sports black pants and a tight sweater while I choose a tank-top and jeans. Black boots all around. We are ready...
Calvin Trillin's commentary "Eau d'Odor," about the French and their attitude toward personal hygiene and body odor [NOTEBOOK, Feb. 15], made me think of the anecdote about Samuel Johnson, who was more fastidious about his language than his hygiene. "Mr. Johnson, you smell," said his female companion. "No, madam," he replied. "You smell, I stink." TOM MACKIN Bedminster...
Suddenly, I realize that I have lost my companion. I panic. But before my imagination can come up with a grim fantasy--my friend and her sweater both nabbed by the Chinese mob--I spot her talking to a tall, ripped, good-looking guy. She lights a cigarette and gestures for me to take off. I leave alone, cursing the Kong as I walked down Mass. Ave. back home...