(Really, it’s best to just keep it open all day.)
Hey, I’m finally on Twitter.
(Only a few months behind on that one. Oh well.)
I’m amorrissey, feel free to add. We’ll have a tweet party.
I’m a big proponent of the idea that basic human nature is blind to pretty much all outside circumstances. I’m not really a philosophy scholar, so there’s probably an actual theory that states this, but I’ll call it the “sibling theory.” As in, no matter the actual parameters of any situation, people will want whatever other people around them receive – whether that would be a material good, a service, or something immeasurable, like love or praise. It’s the same as when you were a little kid and your brother or sister got a treat – you aren’t probably sure why they earned that treat – only that they got it, and you didn’t.
Case in point: I’m standing in line at the bank this afternoon to make a $30 deposit. Nothing fancy. One check, and a two-second process. I’m standing behind four or five people, who look like they have serious business to conduct with the lone teller that is manning the branch. (For instance, the man that occupied the window at this point didn’t really understand the phrase “I can’t do this at this branch.”) A kindly woman must have saw me holding one check and a deposit slip, so she walked up to me and kindly offered to take the check and deposit it herself, without me having to wait in the line. That was very nice. But the woman in front of me saw this happen, and proceeded to pull out a humongous zip-lock bag of bills and change. Of course, the lady couldn’t take this, because a check is much easier to just pop in a box and deposit at the end of the day than $3,000 in random bills and change. She didn’t like the fact that I got to leave before she did.
I’m not saying her reaction was wrong – I wouldn’t be pleased about standing in line for a while. But she had to understand that she wasn’t going to be able to deposit that cash with that woman (and frankly, I wouldn’t really trust having that much money just floating around unsecured). Just an example of that “sibling theory” that I notice, almost all the time.
It seems pretty umm, socially odd, now that I’m writing this, but here goes.
Everyday, when I come out of the underground tunnel that we call the Van Ness-UDC Metro station, I have to cross this small street on my piddly little walk back to the apartment building. It’s really a pretty small obstacle to getting back and planting myself on the couch for some serious QT with a Kirin Ichiban and my good friend Google Reader. But the intersection is one of many on Connecticut Avenue that includes a left-hand turn signal for people that are attempting to get back to their apartments and, well, do the same thing I want to do.
I understand and empathize with these left hand turners. Frankly, I almost pity them in a way. These are people that obviously have to commute somewhere around the Beltway during rush hour – which would probably be hellish enough – but not only that, on my walk home, they are coming southbound. Which means they probably work at some firm in la-la suburb land. Plus, they have to pay for gas. (I’ll cut them some slack on the whole killing the environment thing, because, honestly, I’m not sure how much more they could take before offing themselves.)
The lights are a small concession for these poor people that spent a third of their lives in their cars.
Where was I? Right, crossing the street. So, as I’m walking up, just minding my own p’s and q’s, I always have to stop at this light – since during rush hour, it’s just not a very long light. Fine. I don’t mind waiting for cars – as I’ve already described in way too much detail. However, when other pedestrians get to the crosswalk, they usually simply just walk across whenever the light for Connecticut Avenue should turn green. Oh, if only it were that simple! The light for that left-hand turn always comes on. And you know what happens here – people try to cross in that whole “if we cross together as six people, no one can hit us!” logic.
I do not buy this logic. I wouldn’t accept this logic as a gift, and frankly, I kind of want to boycott this logic’s manufacturer. I find this logic insulting and I want it off my television.
I’ve seen the video footage of those poor women getting hit by that Metrobus. I know what drivers are like around here.
The hardest part to comprehend is that it’s not even possible to tell when someone is actually turning or not at the intersection. Every time I stop there, there is someone that I will brandish “the Leader of the Pack.” This is the same person that feels the need to budge in front of everyone else at other busy crosswalks (Farragut Square comes to mind), when a Metro train arrives at the platform, and other situations. This jackass decides the level of certainty that the people that want to cross the street have of making it. I mean, it’s always 100% according to this person, so it really doesn’t involve much work. As far as I can tell, it mainly involves just sticking your head out – usually with a cigarette in your hand blowing smoke into people faces – and seeing if there is a car with a turn signal on at the front of the line. If not, everyone go! If so, you wait, and the Leader then turns into another one of my favorite roles, the Stink Eye Giver. Basically, if a car is actually turning and making use of the light, this person will give it the stink eye whilst walking in front of it. For what reason, I’m not really sure.
This just furthers my dazed outlook on the whole damn situation.
So I don’t participate. I vote with my conscience on this one. I kindly wait until the little, white, illuminated man tells me that it’s my turn to walk, and also informs me of exactly how many seconds I have left on my journey across Yeazey.
But part of me knows that this Brotherhood of Preemptive Crossers is always looking at me like some sort of outsider, a rebel who isn’t joining in their little game, their union. I swear to god, I’ve gotten the stink eye before.
But you know what? I don’t care. Because someday, when I’m walking home from work, and some idiot steps in front of a 1998 Ford Taurus trying to get back to Van Ness East for some relaxing on the couch, someone is going to need to call an ambulance.
I will attempt to not give the stink eye as they’re loading him or her onto the gurney. But I make no promises.
Is it just me, or is Mountain Dew the most inappropriately named product in the world?
Because, honestly, if I found a bunch of neon, radioactively-green carbonated water on some leaves whilst hiking, the last thing on my mind would be, “wow, that sure looks like some mountain dew.”
After the runway show:
- Rami’s was UGLY. I don’t care if all the losers from past seasons liked it, it was awful.
- Christian’s collection – loved the hats, not so much on the gothic. Black is hard to design, though, according to couchmate Sara.
- Jillian’s was great. Totally didn’t see that one coming. Lots of colors, extremely wearable, good stuff.
So, my last second prediction is Jillian first, Christian, then Rami.
We’ll see if I’m right. If it’s Rami, it’s time for a break from this show. Ugh.
OMG, new cart escalators!
On a more serious note: the fact that the “job application kiosks were full at around 9:45 a.m.” means that the Target (and the mall as a whole) is at least fulfilling one of it’s primary objectives – supplying a large amount of employment to a city that needs some in order to continue a positive trend in unemployment rates which has flattened in the past two years. Now, if it only follows through on raising property values in Columbia Heights and fostering more growth in the neighborhood, then it could be a smashing success.
Plus, you know, now I don’t have to drive to Rockville to buy socks.