Tag Archives: good times at everyone else’s expense

The Heedless Gape

Posted by plumpdumpling on February 9, 2010 – 3:00 pm
Filed under good times at everyone else's expense, living in new york sucks so hard, my uber-confrontational personality, why i'm better than everyone else
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You probably know by now that I hate people who don’t conform to the sorts of etiquette rules that keep society running smoothly, such as waiting for me to leave the train before you enter and giving a friendly wave when I let you turn ahead of me in heavy traffic lest I ram my front end into your brand new BMW.

My big pet peeve as of late are people who walk on the wrong side of the sidewalk. I used to assume, to keep myself sane, that all of the people doing it were from countries where they foolishly drive on the wrong side of the road, but I eventually realized that it’s just a product of living in a city where there way too many people who think they’re too important to follow the crowd and leave space beside them for people to pass.

Kamran thinks I should give couples more leeway when it comes to taking up the entire sidewalk on some of NYC’s teeny streets, but he and I always make a single-file line when we see someone coming so as to not rub it in their face how happy we are holding hands as we walk to the grocery store and how pathetic and meaningless they are as unattached folk. But no. I do not give them more leeway. And I actually hate them more than single people on the wrong side of the sidewalk, because between the two of them, one should have the decency to move aside.

Anyway, I’ve begun implementation of a new method to combat the sidewalk-hogger. I call it The Heedless Gape. When I see someone coming at me on the wrong side of the sidewalk, I simply keep walking at my desired pace and look off into the distance as if I see something so fantastical and all-consuming that other passersby don’t even register with me. Eventually, and usually with an angry huff, the offender will move aside so I can continue on in gawking glee.

I’ve considered what will happen if ever someone refuses to get over, and I’ve decided I’ll just patiently stand my ground until the other person gives up. And you know he’ll give up before I do, because the one advantage to being a very unimportant person in a city full of important people is that I have nowhere to go.

Hey, not to make matters worse, but seriously, keep your hair off my toilet seat in the future.

Posted by plumpdumpling on December 3, 2009 – 1:35 pm
Filed under good times at everyone else's expense, jobby jobby job job, my uber-confrontational personality, politicking, potty mouth
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You may remember that fateful day a year ago in which I went to my favourite bathroom stall at work to find

THE LARGEST PUBIC HAIR IN EXISTENCE.

Well, today, I came out of my stall, and as I was washing my hands, a black woman from the office next door walked in, half-acknowledged the hello I gave her, and went straight for the very same stall. I thought to myself about how funny it is that I always see her using that stall and how we must appreciate the same sort of conditions while doing our bizness.

And then it hit me. The largest pubic hair in existence was probably . . . the hair from her head. And if she saw that sign, she was probably offended, maybe even deeply hurt. It likely called to mind all of the years of latent racism she’s endured, all of the rage she felt when Don Imus called those girls “nappy-headed hoes”. She probably went to the back of the bus that night out of shame.

I don’t have to feel bad about it as a privileged white person, but I sort of do.

Based on the Photo, He’s Likely Also from Ohio

Posted by plumpdumpling on November 4, 2009 – 11:34 am
Filed under good times at everyone else's expense
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I received a notice from OkCupid’s QuickMatch function this morning that one of the following nine men gave me a high rating:

I looked through them, considering which is most likely to want to bang me, and decide that really, any of them would make a suitable replacement for Kamran if ever a Kamran replacement was needed.

The first guy is at a sporting event, which turns me off, but at least I know he’s likely not one of those house-bound fatties who needs to be lifted through his roof with a crane every time he needs to leave.

The seventh guy looks a little unwashed, but he’s wearing a shirt that appears to say “Iron Lung”, which means he either likes Radiohead or iron lungs in general, and either of those is fine with me.

The second guy reminds me of Randy Travis in profile, but he’s in a plane, and I appreciate a world traveler. And I’m assuming this guy is a world traveler and not an NYC-to-Ohio-and-back traveler like me.

The fourth guy isn’t even necessarily a guy, and that mask is exceedingly stupid, but it leads me to believe the person is into art, which is great, even if it’s dumb art.

And so on and so on. With all of the daydreaming I was doing about my potential relationships with the relatively normal-looking gentleman, it took me several minutes to actually process this guy:

I love the picture, because it’s one of those that keeps him from having to write a single word about himself in his profile. He has a mullet and a mustache and is CREEPILY PEERING AT YOU FROM BEHIND A BUSH. Or a tree. Whatever. The point is that you know all you need to know about him and his late night lady-watching habits from that photo alone.

Which means he’s obviously the one who chose me.

The Do-It-Yourself Public Restroom in Times Square

Posted by plumpdumpling on October 12, 2009 – 11:55 am
Filed under good times at everyone else's expense, living in new york is neat, potty mouth
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Last night at 8 p.m., Kamran and I exited a movie theatre in Times Square, accompanied by our friends Jack, Beth, and Nik, Jack’s friend Chris, Jack’s friend Alex from Romania, and Alex’s Romanian girlfriend, Simina. We were walking down 42nd Street, trying to decide which is scarier: the flesh-sucking monsters we’d just seen in Zombieland or NYC tourists. Mid-conversation, out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone bent over with liquid spilling all over her legs and the ground. She was out in the street, facing traffic, with her back to the sidewalk we were on, and I just assumed she was vomiting. She had wavy, shoulder-length black hair and a black suit jacket on. Her bottom half was nude-colored, but I just assumed she was wearing peach leggings. I couldn’t imagine a middle-aged woman wearing leggings without a long shirt covering them, but that seemed much more likely than what was actually happening, which was that

THE WOMAN HAD HER PANTS DOWN AND WAS PEEING
IN THE STREET.

In Times Square. Which, if you’ve never seen it, is basically the center of the world. We’re talking thousands of people milling around a few blocks at all hours of the day and night, with enough lights on every building to make it seem as if the sun never sets. And mostly people who don’t live in NYC, which means a woman with her pants down in the street is about the most exciting thing they’ve ever seen. Traffic was stopped right in front of her, so people in cabs had their noses pressed to the glass not two feet away from her bare bits. The lights glared off the urine clinging to her flabby backside. People stopped and pointed her out to each other, and Kamran yelled for me to get my camera out.

But it was too late. She finished, pulled her pants up, and walked into the subway unashamed.

My Lunch is of Less Value Than My Pride

Posted by plumpdumpling on September 29, 2009 – 12:00 pm
Filed under fun times on the subway, good times at everyone else's expense, living in new york sucks so hard, my uber-confrontational personality
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Yesterday morning, I decided to bring a bag of frozen broccoli with me to work in an attempt to be a sliver more healthy. Needing a carrying vessel, I asked my boyfriend if I could use a stray Saks bag floating around his apartment and was delighted to find that it was the perfect height and depth for broccoli-toting.

As you may have noticed, I often take the bus across 42nd Street to Grand Central, because I get a thrill from having people drive me around since I barely know anyone with a car here. And also because I’m lazy. But this morning, I was feeling anxious about the end of summer and decided to walk it instead. Swinging my brand new lunch bag, I took in the sights of two businessmen stretching the backs of their suits as they embraced and the new look of the Pfizer building now that the giant photomosaics have been removed from every window. It was a great way to start the day.

But then I got to the east stairwell on the outside of Grand Central, which is very narrow for the amount of people who use it. A stream of passengers was attempting to take up the entire staircase, which just seems impossible to me. Having been raised correctly and not by savages, I just don’t have it in me to use the wrong sides of stairs, so I assume that everyone else realizes when they’re in the wrong, too.

But no, with every step, I found myself having to thwart collisions with businesspeople and babies alike.

Read the rest here.