Friday, February 05, 2016

When You're Strange

What was that thing I was going to write?

I don't have energy for the internet much anymore, though I was thinking of again trying to make this blog an exception. Strange how people almost expect that you will keep tabs on them via social media as if it's a condition of friendship: it's not. Why does everyone talk so much on here, then reference that talk in real life? And how can you get that David Bowie tribute up so lightening fast, I can't process the news I heard at 7:50 a.m. on Temple going downtown, listening to KPFK, let alone publish on it. Seeing Bernie Sanders walk off stage in Iowa to Star Man was the best tribute I've seen. And that might be enough for me.

Meanwhile
A day that starts off in a crowded small elevator where a man releases...something from an aerosol can, a puff, a puff that also feels sort of like a fluid, and oh no that must be a chemical, and that...something grazes your eyeball* is bound to be a strange one, speaking of strange. "What was that: a liquid?" I could not help but ask, after dodging the eye graze: time to lean in, amIriteladies? [hashtag: there's still no way I'm voting for Hillary over Bernie]

The aerosol can holder, some sort of maintenance worker going by his aqua green uniform, said, "Nah, it's fine."

"Dude, you almost got whatever that is in my eye. That's not fine," I could not help but close the conversation with. The lady next to me averted her eyes, uncomfortable.

*As Paul Zindel would say, "Pardon me, you're stepping on my eyeball."
Which, come to think of it, is what I'd wish I'd said to this man in the elevator.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home