Having been raised on a Midwestern farm, wanting to be polite is a natural part of my personality that I have to really fight sometimes in order to keep myself from getting mugged, raped, and murdered. So when I saw a man about to sit on a puddle of water in the bus today, I couldn’t help but stop him. And the woman after him. And another man after him.
I suppose the window had been left open all night, and a spot of water about the diameter of a baseball had gathered in the butt groove of the seat in front of me. The cloudy sky kept light from bouncing off of it, so it took the unnatural obsession with not sitting in gum, body fluids, and spilled coffee of someone like me to look hard enough to see it.
At the next stop, more people filed in, and as the bus was starting to fill up, the empty row in front of me became too enticing, and a middle-aged man in a casual business ensemble practically dove to plop down in it. I winced at having not been able to say anything about the water and waited for him to notice that his rear end was soaking and to jump back up. I felt all of the people I’d warned not to sit there watching him from behind me.
But he just settled in with his newspaper to enjoy the ride. Sadly, I had to get off the bus before he did, so I didn’t even get to enjoy watching him stand up later, pants dripping.
(also posted to Examiner, Facebook, my Gmail chat status message, anywhere you are likely to be driven insane by it)
7 Comments
You’re better at being Midwestern than I am at being Southern, because I would have been far too shy/intimidated to say anything to the first person who tried to sit in the watery seat. Then, because I’m Catholic, I would’ve felt guilty for the rest of the day.
Oh, the thing about living in New York and being extroverted is that anytime I have an excuse to talk to people, I use it. I’m dyyyyyyying to make smalltalk with everyone I see. Except on the way to the gym at 6 a.m., when I want to kill everyone, Kamran included.
Gotta love that guilt, though.
“… wanting to be polite is a natural part of my personality …”
Is that so? Then how do you explain the berating I received from you yesterday after returning from the restroom? I believe you said something to the effect of “you suck at going to the bathroom”, etc.
Listen, as soon as you spend your entire work day at my desk making my website look this amazing like Jack does, I’ll treat you with the same deference I give to him and will taunt him in whatever way you ask of me.
hmmm…you’re such a do-gooder! i would have let, nay-ENCOURAGED! people to sit there. that’s how evil i am. mwa ha ha.
This is why Jesus is allowing you to continue on without a leather repair kit, to live with the memory of owning pleated Z. Cavaricci pants, and to get forced into camping with children.
I participated in this thing— The 48-Hour Film Project. It was filmed last weekend, then screened last night. My head is making a vague connection between the director of the film I helped out on and what you do here. What most made my head make the connection is this: “(also posted to Examiner, Facebook, my Gmail chat status message, anywhere you are likely to be driven insane by it)”
Basically, I just stayed out till nearly 4 in the morning talking to this guy talking about filmmaking— just anything and everything about filmmaking. I’m failing to articulate everything here. Suffice it to say it was extensive and profound and smart and kinda maybe a little sad/frustrating because he might not ever be able to achieve all he can do and wants to do. But he’s driven and he knows what he’s doing, so things will happen for him, I believe.
So, the connection (if it isn’t apparent) is this DIY sort of deal. He explained how there are three tiers of lower-level filmmakers before you’re established enough to be classified as an “Independent” director or a “Studio” director, and how there’re all sorts of things you have to deal with in the different tiers (bureaucracy, egos rules, regulations & whatnot). And I sort of view what you do here as being in one of those tiers (except without all the hassle of having to work with other people) as you’re not getting paid for what it is you do, but you, like him, are doing all this stuff to get your work seen. That you care about what you do shows in both your work. And you both do what you do well— although you’re not necessarily rewarded or afforded the opportunities you’d like to be based on your body of work and continued efforts (for the moment).