What follows is just meant as a small note of etiquette on public transit.
When the car is packed with people invading each others’ public spaces, please please please do your utmost best to not pass gas. Yes, sometimes there are accidental leaks, but for the sake of others please make the effort. Clench! Do your kegels! Do what you must to prevent yourself from assaulting the olfactory systems of your fellow passengers.
Thank you for your attention.
When I left work for home, I saw a long line up for the streetcar so I decided to hike up to the station. I love cooler days like this because I find it easier to free the mind of thoughts. In the summer, I tend to focus on sweat which isn’t so much of a pleasant thing to meditate upon. By the time I left though it had just finished snowing a couple of centimetres. So the sidewalk was covered by a layer of watery slush. I was wearing my Rockports, so I found it pretty difficult to deal with the slush. My footing slipped many times as I shuffled along. I didn’t fall, but I very well could have if I kept going. In the end, I gave up after a few blocks and headed for the nearest streetcar stop.
I have boots, which is what I’d normally wear when I’m anticipating this type of weather. It’s just that they’re ridiculously heavy. I wore them for one week a couple of weeks ago. By the end of that period my knees were achy and my legs were constantly worn out. So, I’ve stopped wearing them and have been wearing my summer shoes in the meantime. Of course, that’s problematic. They’re not suited for this type of weather. The shoes need good traction. So, I think it’s really time to buy proper footwear once again.
I need to head into the malls sometime soon. Thing is, do I really want to brave the crowds? I’m really tempted to put this off until later. Besides that, I don’t want to add yet another thing to my growing list of expenses this month. December is a month that’s vicious on the bank account. Spending can easily get out of hand if it isn’t kept in check, right? I’ve still got to buy gifts. I also have to pay for a windshield replacement–it’s been cracked since before my Arizona trip. There’s also an anticipated expense taking place on Wednesday of next week–I’ll talk about that one when the time comes. There’s a lot to do, and a lot to buy.
I figure that I can rest a little bit once the month is over, but meanwhile…eternal vigilance!
Uh…and less long walks to the station.
Why did that guy behind me on the streetcar insist on yelling in Chinese into my ear? Sure, it looked like he was talking into his cell, but really, he was yelling into my ear. Why? Even the young woman next to me was complaining about him…but that was only after she persisted to laugh uncontrollably into my ear. Sure, it looked like she was laughing with her friend on her cell, but she was sharing her sharp piercing laughter with me. Why? It seemed like she was just moments away from letting out a “SQUEEEEE!” at several points.
Ugh!
You know, the only reason I was able to recognize a pair of people on the streetcar this morning were evangelizing Mormons was because I’d seen their uniforms before from the movie Orgazmo.
Orgazmo: the movie that gave meaning to the acronym DVDA.
How’s that for juxtaposition, eh? EH?
After writing about time compression the other day, it was a bit of a serendipitous thing to run into Rahul on the streetcar this past afternoon. I worked closely with him and two others on orientation week back in 2004. Since then, we sort of lost touch because we were off-stream. That is, when I was in school he was busy working, and when he was in school I was working. As it turns out, he works very close to where I work. It’s just luck that we hadn’t run into each other after all this time.
Anyway, we picked caught up pretty quickly. We reminisced about times past. I felt just as scatter-brained as ever. I mean, I usually get that way when talking to people I haven’t seen in a long time. Frankly, I tend not to sound intelligent: perhaps stoned, which might explain one of my coworker’s observations. A lot of the conversation was spiked with me interjecting: “Wow…that was so long ago.” I tried not to be loud, but, I suppose I didn’t care too much who heard our conversation. Well, I didn’t until he asked: “Are you still into ______?” Oh Lord. He asked about the fandom. Out loud. On the streetcar. All I could do was say, “eh…wow…that was so long ago.” He said, “I remember you insisting we watch an episode on my laptop!” All I could do was grimace.
“Wow…so long ago.”
*sigh*
Anyway, we started talking about his job. As it turns out, he really promoted his project management skills based on our experience with orientation week. Sure, he had other events to list as well, but really, that was the big thing. As a result, he got a good job as a project manager. In my case, I only gave that job a few lines, and only on the second page. So, of course, it really didn’t play into any job interviews that I got. After speaking with him, I think it’s a bit of a pity I didn’t play it up more. I could have gotten a non-coding job. Seriously. How great would that have been? I don’t intend to stay where I am forever, you know? Well, it’s something to think about when it comes time to consider where I want to take my career.
I’m sure I’ll see him again at some point. We plan on eating lunch together at some time in the near future. It should be great. I think this is sort of what I meant about the past not being so far away even though it really is. No matter what happens, you will always have connections to your past, and inevitably you’ll end up crossing paths with people who you’ve interacted with at one point or another.
The other day, I was just thinking about how often I used the term ‘hygienically challenged’ when I write about my commutes to work. It’s kind of amusing.
I wasn’t originally planning on writing about my commute (yet again). However, on the streetcar, I ended up having to stand next to a guy who reeked of urine stained clothes. There was a Chinese couple in front of me talking to each other, and even though I didn’t understand what they were saying, I knew what the topic was; they were covering their noses and frowning heavily.
So, this perhaps this is what I get for thinking about the term “hygienically challenged.” Hey…if that worked, maybe I should think about a term like “nubile maidens.” Who knows what will happen?
This morning on the streetcar, I sat down by the back doors, quietly absorbed in my music. Piercing through the angst and strain of Alanis were long groans and moans coming from what sounded like an old man about midway in the car. The middle aisle was already full of people, so I couldn’t see the source of the noise. It didn’t seem like anyone was acting with a sense of urgency, so I thought nothing of it.
As people got off, it seemed a bubble was forming around someone on the other side of the car. People were avoiding this guy that seemed like a hippie. He had long greying hair, and had this braided hair tie thing going around his forehead. He had various things hanging from his pants. The item among them that drew my attention the most was a bell that rang as he walked. He was hygienically challenged and smelled quite ripe; it’s no wonder that people formed a “perimeter” around him.
He stood up from his seat and proceeded to continue retching and moaning. The sound was halfway between being arthritic and orgasmic: say, ‘arthrasmic’, or perhaps, ‘orgasritic.’ As he neared his stop, he moved towards the rear doors, with his bell gently clanging with every step. The smell caused me to hold my breath. Unfortunately, the car caught a red light and had to stop before the destination. The hippie wretched and moaned.
Eventually he got off, allowing me to exhale and generate a big sigh of relief.
All of that made me smile this morning.
I was planning on writing about some philosophical stuff that my coworker and I were talking about on the way to Kensington Market during lunch…but instead, I’ll leave some random thoughts I’ve had while riding transit.
- That guy over there smells of bad B.O. I wonder if he knows he smells. Makes me wonder if I’m generating any strong odours, myself.
- I’ve been sneezed on, been harassed by crazies, had newspapers rested on my head while the holder reads comfortably…and last night I can add “had cantaloupe dropped on him” to that list of misfortunes.
- If the train drivers don’t announce the stops, how will the nappers know when to rouse themselves from their shallow dozing?
- Does pumping classical music in certain stations really deter the young folk from loitering? Isn’t it possible that you end up with a problem of rowdy sophisticates loitering around instead?
- There are a lot of old people who pretend to not know and cut the line while waiting for streetcars. Do they feel entitled? Are they just unaware?
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