As I sat here, typing the previous entry, I saw a story on the news about a girl that disappeared in New Hampshire. A sad story of a disappearance in a small town. Of course the people that the news interviewed were probably the last this poor girl would want to speak on her behalf. The news have a knack for finding the last person you would ever want the world to know that you knew. Anyway, the story ended with the reporter talking to three girls. They sat there in unity in their bright pink shirts and exclaimed to the reporter that rain or shine they would sit their until they found the missing girl. Not to be insensitive, but wouldn't it be more productive if they actually went out and looked for the girl? They could still wear the shirts... They say it is the g
I was in a McDonalds today. This particular franchise was in San Leandro, CA. (For those of you who don't know, this is a great place to be.) When I walked in, immediately in front of me was a group of kids, not as in toddlers, but as in teenagers acting like toddlers. (This is how I know I am old, I am reffering to the "Damned Kids") I ordered my two cheese burgers and proceeded to fill my cup with the sweet nectar of Coca-Cola when I noticed the teens. They were very animated and loud, which at first didn't strike me as that odd. It wasn't until I sat down when they really started to annoy me. Let's just say they weren't using their indoor voices. I sat there eating my cheeseburgers and listened to their conversation. This boisterous chat the 10 or so were having was all about the greatness of fighting. "Fuckin fightin is the shit! You just don't even know!" exclaimed one teen. "Fuck Yeah!" chimed in another. The fighting part isn't what got me. It was the complete lack of respect for anyone these kids had. This place was full of small kids and older folks. There was even a lady with her daughter, both on their respective lap tops plugged in with headsets and all. I couldn't tell if they were working or playing WOW. There were business people in there as well discussing which part of the world to buy next as well. Part of me really admired the kids disregard for the world around them. I often find myself often too aware of those around me. I was already to get in on their conversation when I looked beside the small mob. There sitting alone and the booth across from them was a tiny lady. She didn't have food or drink in front of her. This part didn't surprise me because McDonalds is very tolerant of the homeless hanging out in their establishment. (They don't seem to mind these people belligerently demanding money as well.) This wasn't the case with this tiny lady as she was clean and well dressed. But she was just sitting there, with her hands cupped over her ears. I sat there and watched her for the duration of my cheeseburgers. She just sat there, with her hands over her ears. The kids didn't seem to notice her. I don't know if she was protesting them or simply annoyed as everyone else was. (Or so I presume). At any rate, it was an interesting scene. Slowly but surely, the kids' "rides" came and got them. When I left, the woman was still sitting there. with her hands over her ears. Perhaps she just had a headache.
Today, I took a trip to the city in order to observe the San Francisco art scene at the First Thursday openings. I have been meaning to do this for quite sometime now, but for one reason or another, it hasn't happened until now. I took the train from San Jose to San Francisco as I hate dealing with parking and traffic and other automotive pains in the ass cities have to offer. I took a seat on the first car and sat there waiting for the train to go. The train was empty except for the man that sat down right before the train departed the station. Of course this person HAD to sit right beside me... in a car with about 100 empty seats. And as luck would have it, he loved to talk. With in the first five minutes of the ride, I knew way more about him than I knew of myself at the moment. I sort of felt bad for the guy, but at the same time was in no mood to talk. I thought I was going to get a reprieve when a girl stepped onto the train. He immediately slid over to make room for her, you know, because the train was short on seats... She was at the other end of the car before he got the words out. I didn't want to be an outward asshole and just change cars, but this guy was driving me batshit crazy. So I began to fake phone calls. I had happy ones, sad ones, wrong numbers, all sorts to get this guy to leave me alone, My plan worked and the guy eventually got bored and changed cars. The problem I encountered was when at one point, I found myself actually believing, though only for a moment, that I was having real conversations. I was even reacting as if the other person was giving shit about something that I hadn't done, I didn't know what it was, but I was adamant that I didn't do it. I am not really sure how long I carried on this conversation, with myself. But at least the guy moved on to greener pastures.
This day was chock full of characters like this. Most of which were at the openings, which I had expected because art is a magnet for the socially inept and the emotionally needy. But the last place I expected to deal with this was the one place most guys go to to find peace- the bathroom. After getting lost in Union Square, I found myself really having to pee. I really hate going into an establishment just to use the facilities, but it was either Macy's or my pants, and it would have been a long train ride back to the south bay if I had. So up to the 6th floor men's room I went. (It seemed strange that it was all the way up there to me too.) I stood at the urinal, abiding by the man laws, (no looking around, only shaking once etc...) when a guy proceeds to break rule number one of the bathroom man law. This person talked to the guy at the urinal beside him! And the lucky asshole at that urinal was me! This man then started to point out that the dividers between urinals were all rusty and that highway restrooms were had received complaints for this in the past. This person was shocked that such squalor would happen at the Union Square Macy's. By the time I was able to leave the day's Coca-Cola behind and zip up in a safe manor, I had heard all about the improper condition of this restroom. I ran out without washing my hands to get away from this guy.(DON'T JUDGE!) After zig-zagging my way through the bedding department, partially to avoid this guy, and partially because I was once again lost, I saw the guy in the customer service area, probably schooling them on proper restroom rust prevention. Later on, back at the train station, I once again, had to pee. I spent the whole time in there looking at the fucking rust on the stinking urinal stalls!! Even worse, I was wondering who to complain to! Crazy is contagious.