Saturday, October 17, 2009

I chose it out on purpose

The elevator is undoubtedly one of the most awkward places in the entire world; it’s like being stuck inside a coffin with a bunch of strangers, and they are the worst strangers in the whole world because they could also be thought of as your neighbors. Luckily, I live in a really enormous building so I don’t have to be friendly—which would be the WORST—and we all just stand there like we are the sole individuals present and, of course, this can create some bizarre situations because tragically you are not alone.

This is a true story. I got into the elevator one Saturday night (that’s right I was actually “going out”) and it was fairly chilly outside but I say “chilly” specifically because it wasn’t actually really cold yet. I was wearing a scarf. Not a big deal. So this woman gets onto the elevator and immediately breaks the don’t-fucking-talk-to-me-in-this-small-space rule that I have with everyone.

Woman: It’s really cold out.

Me: [Why is she talking to me? I’ll give a short answer] Yeah.

Woman: You will probably be cold in that.

Me: [What?!] Oh, this scarf is pretty warm.

Woman: You should go get a jacket.

Me: Well it’s a pretty big scarf.

Woman: That’s lucky.

Oh, actually, it's not a matter of luck because I chose it out on purpose. I literally saw it and said, yes, I will wear that and my neck will be warm and if I want to turn it into a hat later because I'm feeling crazy, I can do that too because I have options and free will. What did she want me to do say, “Stop the elevator immediately! I do not want to freeze to death in this insufficient scarf that I am not really lucky to have, even though there are children starving in Africa who—if they were cold and it wasn’t hot there—would want this scarf, because it will never ever shield me from the bitter cold of October. Somehow god is trying to reach me through this angel disguised as a bitch in the elevator. He thought he could trick me but NO! I will trust this angel, this Gabriel here, because she knows best.”

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Mooo, welcome to Stew Leonard's

Yesterday was a pretty big day for me. Living with my parents means I go grocery shopping with my mom. There is some comedian who talks about how annoying it is when you go to the supermarket, fill up your cart, and then someone moves it, or they bring it in the back and empty it out, then the comedian says something like “you’ve picked out all of your shit there especially for you, and now it's gone.” I’m sure the joke sounds much better when done in a caaraaazy voice and into a microphone; however, that’s not my real problem with the supermarket. But I should come out and say that I don’t go to any supermarket I go to fucking Costco and then me and my mom, we fucking go to Stew Leonard's right after because we want discount things in bulk and we also want discount things that seem like they might come from a nice grocery store but are also in bulk .

Our first stop is Costco and here’s why I sometimes hate it: I hate all of the other people there. It’s not how special my cart is, it’s that other people are there, and they bump up against me with their supersized box of pancake mix, jumbo butter, ten million Hershey bars, diet coke, and fat ass, and sometimes they look in my cart. The other day these two short fat women, pushing a cart together like umpaloompas carting pounds of sugar, pass by me and one just looks in my cart, looks in MY fucking cart. THIS IS MY CART! What the fuck were they doing looking at my stuff? Yes, I have a set of fifteen toothbrushes, but so what? Why do you care? Maybe I sleep with so many people that I have to give them all toothbrushes and then when they leave in the morning they get to take it with them like a party favor, so OBVIOUSLY you might conclude that I run out very quickly.

So I’m pushing around this cart, which is proportional to all the crap we’re buying—so, very large, and people are looking in my cart, and it’s terrible. But then we go to Stew Leonard’s. Here’s a word of advice: never go to there if you’re high. While I doubt anyone ever says, “Yo! Let’s get really, really high and go to Stew’s (because that’s probably what you call it if you’re in the in crowd)” do not be tempted. I wasn’t high and I was still incredibly freaked out. When we first get there we pass through this “fun zone” area where they are selling apples and cider, and shit like that, and there are all these people that stop and look like “Oooh what is going on here? Do you want to stop? Should we stop? No. Let’s do it. Ok let’s stop.” Ok, whatever, but while you and your middle aged husband are deciding your own adventure I’m wondering if I’m ever going to get in because I see they are giving out free samples of donuts and I really deserve one.

After passing through this very stressful entrance, we make it inside, and there are decorations everywhere. It’s not just your typical Halloween decorations it's like a fucking freak show. There are these little dolls that hang from the ceiling and flip around this fake trapeze things and they are next to a sign that says, “We flip for a customers.” Do not flip for me, I do not want anyone to flip for me—especially a little Satan doll with crazy eyes. As we walk through the shop, which is like a maze by the way and we are about to get killed by a minotaur any second and, you are not going to fucking believe this, a huge cow comes out of the fucking walls, and we have no string, and it follows right behind my mother: this cow costumed fuck. It was terrible. That’s what I mean when I said if you were high you would not be happy because you’d be trapped eating samples and then this huge cow would come up and would be like, “Moooooo, welcome to Stew Leonard’s.”

Monday, October 5, 2009

Is that your adult sized scooter out there?

What do you think about adults on scooters? Let’s take a poll. Oh wait, this is the perfect forum for a fake dialogue and an opinionated person. Poll= It’s not okay for adults to be on scooters. I’m sorry, but that’s it. I’m not talking about those little Razor scooters, but honestly could you imagine that?—I mean the electronic ones. I think anything that you ride while standing perfectly erect (obviously things could get dirty here but lets be grown ups) isn’t cool. When you are in a forward motion, you should not be perpendicular to anything. Think of it as a rule. This is probably why people look so fucking ridiculous: because riding a scooter is admitting that you have no physical capabilities whatsoever. “Scootering” is what Klosterman thought soccer was. (There you go, gooch). If you’re not down with public transportation, bike, and if you can’t bike, walk, OR if you feel like making no effort just stand still and the ground beneath you will move. You should wear a helmet though because you never know, the breeze could seriously fuck up your hair. Plus, you have to try and trick everyone into thinking you are actually being dangerous and bad ass. You are fooling no one. Imagine... "Hey you, how'd you get here so fast?" "Just hopped on my scooter. Didn't even peddle. Didn't need to: it's electronic. Check out my helmet." By the way, I tried to get a great picture from google images but I couldn't. People are just too embarrassed. Or they're moving so fast no one can catch them.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Of course, I understand, it's just that I really want to explain my problem to you again because people are waiting behind me

Did you ever realize that, whenever you're in a rush, the most annoying, stupid, incompetent person is standing right in front of you? This can happen in everyday events like walking to the subway, walking to work, it came happen anywhere: lucky you. Usually, when I’m in a rush, I develop a personal vendetta against whoever the fuck is slowing me down. I sort of decided they are doing it on purpose. Why do you also want to go down that street?! Where could you possibly be going?!

But you know what, sometimes I think people are doing it on purpose. I was at the post office the other day and I was there to mail some seriously heavy shit. So I get in line, which is not that long for the first time, and I'm pretty happy about it because, like I said, I was exercising in a way—lifting weights. As it turns out, the person in front of me is one of those people who likes to reiterate their problem but also the fact that they understand that it's not the person behind the counters fault. Let me go into extensive detail because I can, because I was there listening, so I know EVERYTHING. So poor little Timmy had ordered a book for class but it wasn’t there yet, the post office had called to tell him that it would be there but, oh no! It wasn’t yet! Ah! Fuck! And it was really hard for him because he had to read it for a class on Monday. So he goes over this problem a million times, pointing out the details on the note given to him, etc, and then he does something like this—these are the segway words you have to be careful of: “Yeah, its just that----:” If you hear those words, you are fucked because it means they are about to start the whole thing over again. Or, “Yeah I know it's not your fault but WAIT let me reiterate the entire thing for you so I can prove that I know it’s not your fault because I am a frustrated yet compassionate and understanding customer” And then I think, “Oh, thank goodness, because you may have noticed I’m standing behind you so it’s harder to hear what you're saying. Oh, yes, that’s me the one with the big packages. Yes, it's true I’ve heard them described as “heavy” and “big.” It’s because it’s a lot of books. But don’t worry, I’m toning my arms and I really want to make sure you have enough time to fix things up with your pal behind the counter.”