I’m very particular with foods I eat, not so much for the taste, but more so for the convenience at which to eat them. I like the flavour of bananas, the banana billabongs have long been my favourite ice confectionary, but I don’t like eating bananas, if only for the reason that I have to break them up while eating them, as eating them like a monkey would makes me feel uncomfortable, something that shape shouldn’t be entering my mouth like that.
Another food that gets my gripe is tomatoes. I don’t mind the flavour or tomatoes, im a fan of tomato soup, its been a comforter of mine for years, cold winter nights with toast wrapped under the comfort of a sleeping bag, on the couch, in front of a tv, so its not a disclike to the fruit which has caused me the concern, it’s the position it puts me in, and how that makes me feel.
In a salad, when nicely tossed, they are the perfect fruit, it’s more in a burger/sandwich/kebab (BSK) situation that concerns me.
The tomato, on most occasions has quite a tough exterior, the skin sometimes hard to break through, very rarely can you rely on a butter knife to give you a consistent cut through the tomato skin, it just gives it an indentation, which then turns into a rip, which then turns into the worst sandwich of all time, due to the bad cut of the tomato. But that’s not my problem; I don’t buy tomatoes to cut up myself.
My problem with the tomato is this: With the skin being so hard it takes quite a bite to cut through the skin, but even a tough bite isn’t a guarantee that you have taken only what you want. When you don’t fully break through the skin on your bite, as you slowly depart from the kiss of your food, the tough skin that the tomato brings keeps the portion of the tomato in your mouth, and the portion in your sandwich inseparable, the result of this being a tomato hitting your chin.
The hitting of the chin is the main issue, but associated with that issue is the inside of the tomato, with its gooey texture and abundance of seeds ends up on your chin, now, as mentioned earlier the reason for my banana dislike is due to the uncomfortable situation it puts me in, a wet gooey substance full of ‘seeds’ hitting my chin puts me in that same situation. I’m not homophobic, but I’m also far from looking forward to something, be it in this case a tomato, bouncing against my chin, leaving a trail of goo and seeds.
As I don’t have control over the slice or quality of the tomato I consistently abstain from ordering foods where tomato is a staple. Or if the option of tomato is there, I asked for said offender to be removed, on most occasions a wry frown appears on the hosts face, their discomfort of having to remove the tomato is nothing compared to the fear of the chin slap, and in turn the discomfort I feel as tomato juice runs down my chin in such an unsensual way.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
there is a season, turn, turn, turn
I had an interesting conversation a while back with a few friends, its probably, or hopefully a conversation I will never have to touch on again. A friend of mine – who ‘Will’ remain nameless – mentioned 3 names that he would ‘turn’ for, his enthusiasm for George Clooney made me feel uncomfortable, so much so I moved my chair to a distance where if he wanted, he couldn’t rest his hand on my leg, now, I look nothing like George Clooney, I have brown eyes, I think that’s the only resemblance we would bare, but I didn’t want to take that risk, that in this seemingly altered state that he could mistake us. He repeated the word George under his breath a number of times, further justifying my decision to shuffle away a little further.
I thought about the question for about 15 minutes or so, I was interrupted a few times by things out of my control, but it was something that I wanted to put thought into, I asked the rules of ‘turning’ and what it actually involved (was it a one night thing, who was ‘on top’, who would know, would I at least get a free meal or some drinks bought for me, etc.), so I could give myself the best opportunity of coming up with the person who I would possibly ‘turn’ for. Im not sure if it was a situation of not wanting to embarrass myself by naming someone, not actually having that tendency, or as with most things in life, being too fussy to be rushed into a situation.
I thought about the above three things, I figure as one of the attendees had named their ‘turn’, well, their 3 turns with a high affection towards ‘George’, then it wouldn’t be that embarrassing for me. It was clearly a hypothetical situation, so the tendancy question was out of the window. It was then a fussiness issue.
Im generally a fussy person, and I apparently don’t like many things, I didn’t realise I don’t like that many things until someone recently told me so, or told me that they had noticed I don’t like many things, and that it was funny. I don’t like multi coloured tennis balls, double sided sticky tape, pen lasers, long fingernails, people running in crowds and lemons in my Coke. Now, if I don’t like lemons in my Coke, how was I to come up with a hypothetical ‘turn’. I ran through a number of scenarios in my head as to who would be the best fit for someone like me, someone so fussy who was willing to turn in a hypothetical situation.
Sometimes its amazing what boredom can do for someone, it puts you in situations, whether it be mental or physical, where you would never expect yourself to be. The conversation was travelling well until this point, I put a dampner on it by not wanting to reveal an off the cuff ‘turn’, I tend to put a lot of thought into things, I think this is reflected in my occupation, I have to make sure I have covered off all angles before I can make a final decision, and as a matter of accuracy I recheck all the main points undertaken.
I could feel the pressure building up as it was clearly my choice the group was waiting on, what if I chose someone that other people ridiculed. George Clooney was a good choice, everyone loves George Clooney (for the record, I don’t include myself as everyone, if I wanted to include myself I would have said ‘we all love George Clooney’ but I didn’t and I don’t), as I could see impatience building up I couldn’t think, or decide, I figured time would be my ally and allow the others to forget the question. I wasted as much time as possible, sending messages, using the bathroom (which wasn’t such a good idea considering the mind set my head was in), sending more messages, discussing the songs that were on the stereo. In the end, as much of a letdown as it was, I couldn’t decide, it was more of a refusal to let myself be pictured lying next to a Bruce Willis type figure, cuddled up on his chest having just been violated - it was too much for my little heterosexual head to handle. Im too fussy to allow myself to make a final decision in a hypothetical situation.
I learnt an important lesson from this, sometimes its good to be fussy and not like things, that way, your coke will never taste like lemon.
I thought about the question for about 15 minutes or so, I was interrupted a few times by things out of my control, but it was something that I wanted to put thought into, I asked the rules of ‘turning’ and what it actually involved (was it a one night thing, who was ‘on top’, who would know, would I at least get a free meal or some drinks bought for me, etc.), so I could give myself the best opportunity of coming up with the person who I would possibly ‘turn’ for. Im not sure if it was a situation of not wanting to embarrass myself by naming someone, not actually having that tendency, or as with most things in life, being too fussy to be rushed into a situation.
I thought about the above three things, I figure as one of the attendees had named their ‘turn’, well, their 3 turns with a high affection towards ‘George’, then it wouldn’t be that embarrassing for me. It was clearly a hypothetical situation, so the tendancy question was out of the window. It was then a fussiness issue.
Im generally a fussy person, and I apparently don’t like many things, I didn’t realise I don’t like that many things until someone recently told me so, or told me that they had noticed I don’t like many things, and that it was funny. I don’t like multi coloured tennis balls, double sided sticky tape, pen lasers, long fingernails, people running in crowds and lemons in my Coke. Now, if I don’t like lemons in my Coke, how was I to come up with a hypothetical ‘turn’. I ran through a number of scenarios in my head as to who would be the best fit for someone like me, someone so fussy who was willing to turn in a hypothetical situation.
Sometimes its amazing what boredom can do for someone, it puts you in situations, whether it be mental or physical, where you would never expect yourself to be. The conversation was travelling well until this point, I put a dampner on it by not wanting to reveal an off the cuff ‘turn’, I tend to put a lot of thought into things, I think this is reflected in my occupation, I have to make sure I have covered off all angles before I can make a final decision, and as a matter of accuracy I recheck all the main points undertaken.
I could feel the pressure building up as it was clearly my choice the group was waiting on, what if I chose someone that other people ridiculed. George Clooney was a good choice, everyone loves George Clooney (for the record, I don’t include myself as everyone, if I wanted to include myself I would have said ‘we all love George Clooney’ but I didn’t and I don’t), as I could see impatience building up I couldn’t think, or decide, I figured time would be my ally and allow the others to forget the question. I wasted as much time as possible, sending messages, using the bathroom (which wasn’t such a good idea considering the mind set my head was in), sending more messages, discussing the songs that were on the stereo. In the end, as much of a letdown as it was, I couldn’t decide, it was more of a refusal to let myself be pictured lying next to a Bruce Willis type figure, cuddled up on his chest having just been violated - it was too much for my little heterosexual head to handle. Im too fussy to allow myself to make a final decision in a hypothetical situation.
I learnt an important lesson from this, sometimes its good to be fussy and not like things, that way, your coke will never taste like lemon.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Brown Paper Bag Man - My Favorite
Whenever I see a brown paper bag man I get quite excited, nervous, but excited. The brown paper bag man is essentially a drunk, but drunks try not to hide the fact they have alcohol, brown paper bag men generally do, and they are reasonably dressed in comparison to a drunk, I think its because the brown paper bag doesn’t give them away as a drunk, so they should dress nicer as to not give off that impression.
The reason the brown paper bag man excites me is because they still lead an active life, they aren’t slouched in a corner, they generally consider themselves the ‘unofficial’ town crier for the moment, making sure everyone is aware of whats going on, they generally take the reigns in the ‘if something stupid needs to be done, then Ill be the one to do it’.
I went out for dinner last night, I had dumplings, they were pretty good, they made the slight disappointment I had disappear, I was walking along Swanston Street just before 6 looking for an Empire magazine to read with dinner (it gets boring by yourself otherwise), but I couldn’t find one, which disappointed me, I should have expected it as its at that tricky stage where October has generally sold out yet the November one hasn’t been issued yet, I find myself looking for magazines at all the wrong times, I suppose I need to shift the rotation somehow, maybe missing out this week will help with the rotation shift. Anyway, not having the Empire magazine made my dinner quite boring, the staff looked at me funny as I sat there and looked out the window, and anyone who entered the restaurant looked at me with pity, I didn’t mind, I still had a view of the brown paper bag man.
I was walking up Little Burke Street to my usual dumpling haunt where I noticed a man waving people around, he wasn’t a policeman, and well, this streets one way so didn’t think he would be waving traffic through, but then I saw it, the brown paper bag in the left hand. I think they generally use the left hand as it means they can hold the shoulder of the person they hold up to talk to, restricting their escape until brown paper bag man has finished what he had to say. As I slowly, yet excitedly approached I noticed a hive of activity, a swarm of bees had fallen and landed outside one of the many restaurants, luckily not mine, but, as with most occasions, brown paper bag man had taken control of the situation. Armed with bottle and newspaper (having cleared the area), he proceeded to ‘chase’ the bees away, this was admittedly one of the more funnier things I had seen in quite sometime. I going to make the assumption here that he thought because they landed in a clump they will more than likely fly in a clump.
I watch funniest home videos on quite a regular basis, im not ashamed to admit that im home often on a Saturday night, each week there are generally three type of, well, collages, of clips that send me into a tizzy, firstly the bike scenes, you always know what’s going to happen but its still funny, the ladder clips, how can people be so stupid, and thirdly, dealing with unpredictable beast clips. Brown paper bag man had fallen into the last scene.
Iv never seen someone in this situation in a live scene before, iv seen something close, but not to this extent. im not going to lie, from the safety of the restaurant window, I shed a tear of joy, its horrible I know, but that’s what I find funny, watching a man have 4 limbs moving simultaneously in every direction trying to swat away a swarm of bees. I laughed, I cried.
He was ok, he was still loitering the area well after the scene had been cleared, gloating about his victory of the miniscule beasts which had reeked momentary havoc on little Burke street.
The good thing about brown paper bag men is you know that entertainment is only a swig away from the bag.
The reason the brown paper bag man excites me is because they still lead an active life, they aren’t slouched in a corner, they generally consider themselves the ‘unofficial’ town crier for the moment, making sure everyone is aware of whats going on, they generally take the reigns in the ‘if something stupid needs to be done, then Ill be the one to do it’.
I went out for dinner last night, I had dumplings, they were pretty good, they made the slight disappointment I had disappear, I was walking along Swanston Street just before 6 looking for an Empire magazine to read with dinner (it gets boring by yourself otherwise), but I couldn’t find one, which disappointed me, I should have expected it as its at that tricky stage where October has generally sold out yet the November one hasn’t been issued yet, I find myself looking for magazines at all the wrong times, I suppose I need to shift the rotation somehow, maybe missing out this week will help with the rotation shift. Anyway, not having the Empire magazine made my dinner quite boring, the staff looked at me funny as I sat there and looked out the window, and anyone who entered the restaurant looked at me with pity, I didn’t mind, I still had a view of the brown paper bag man.
I was walking up Little Burke Street to my usual dumpling haunt where I noticed a man waving people around, he wasn’t a policeman, and well, this streets one way so didn’t think he would be waving traffic through, but then I saw it, the brown paper bag in the left hand. I think they generally use the left hand as it means they can hold the shoulder of the person they hold up to talk to, restricting their escape until brown paper bag man has finished what he had to say. As I slowly, yet excitedly approached I noticed a hive of activity, a swarm of bees had fallen and landed outside one of the many restaurants, luckily not mine, but, as with most occasions, brown paper bag man had taken control of the situation. Armed with bottle and newspaper (having cleared the area), he proceeded to ‘chase’ the bees away, this was admittedly one of the more funnier things I had seen in quite sometime. I going to make the assumption here that he thought because they landed in a clump they will more than likely fly in a clump.
I watch funniest home videos on quite a regular basis, im not ashamed to admit that im home often on a Saturday night, each week there are generally three type of, well, collages, of clips that send me into a tizzy, firstly the bike scenes, you always know what’s going to happen but its still funny, the ladder clips, how can people be so stupid, and thirdly, dealing with unpredictable beast clips. Brown paper bag man had fallen into the last scene.
Iv never seen someone in this situation in a live scene before, iv seen something close, but not to this extent. im not going to lie, from the safety of the restaurant window, I shed a tear of joy, its horrible I know, but that’s what I find funny, watching a man have 4 limbs moving simultaneously in every direction trying to swat away a swarm of bees. I laughed, I cried.
He was ok, he was still loitering the area well after the scene had been cleared, gloating about his victory of the miniscule beasts which had reeked momentary havoc on little Burke street.
The good thing about brown paper bag men is you know that entertainment is only a swig away from the bag.
blue bubblegum
Although im now 27 years old I don’t think iv quite escaped from the reality that at heart, im still a child. This afternoon I found myself looking at a blue highlighter, probably a recent addition to my favourite colour highlighter, its not as obtrusive as most other colours, it looks nicer, and really its an escape from the other highlighters which have clearly trapped themselves in the 80’s with their fluoro colours, we all know fluoro colours just aren’t cool anymore and I think the inventor of the blue highlighter, while still keeping with the quasi fluoro colour, hasn’t gone the whole hog. Anyway, I was looking at my blue highlighter and memories of yesteryear flooded back, memories that reminded me, back in the day everything blue or bluey/green was bubble gum flavour.
Intrigued to know if this still rang true, if someone out there had kept with the traditions of my childhood, I sheepishly looked around while I removed the lid from the highlighter as if to show I was about to use it, not about to smell, and if agreeable by smell, then more than likely taste. Having removed the lid I once again looked around and feigned a scratchy nose to place the highlighter at a distance where a smell could so happen pass. My valid attempts proved un-wanting as a fleeting pass did not provide the sufficient study time to make a concrete decision. Still determined to see if someone out there would allow me to relive my childhood blue memories I had to think of other ways to feed my childish curiosity. At this point I was thinking why don’t I just take the plunge and stick the highlighter up my nose, well, im one for an adventure, I don’t like to make things obvious, and, well, by making it look obvious it could show that I have some sort of problem and need to find elaborate ways to get high during the day, which I don’t (need to get high).
The next step involved aggressively highlighting particular sections of a piece of paper, making the paper so moist (al) that it almost rips, not from the aggressiveness of the highlighting, but from the almost complete drying out of the highlighter, although I was quite aggressive towards the paper with highlighter in hand, I still had to put cover on that I wasn’t up to something suspicious. As I completed my highlighting tasks it came to the realisation that it wasn’t going to work, holding a piece of paper to my face littered with blotches of blue would look as bad, if not worse than holding a highlighter to my nose for an extended period of time.
A number of other ideas ran through my head, each as worse as the other in disguising this feat of gauging the childhood memory, does blue always smell and taste like bubblegum flavour. It first came from the ice cream, which in my eyes was clearly the best ice cream flavour on the market, whenever I ate it I always removed the napkin from around the cone, there was no way that any was going to be wasted on a napkin, im more likely to lick my hand, and as n most cases the melted ice cream followed like a stream down my wrist and on occasion hitting close to my elbow, areas I would be more than happy to deal with the threat of stickiness provided I could somehow get one last lick of the bubblegum flavour, you see with the napkin it defiles the flavour, makes it tasteless, or more taste like soggy paper than the bubblegum ice cream which I had spent my hard earned pocket money on.
I didn’t want to let this fly, there was only one thing I could, and probably from the outset should do. I had to taste it. Tasting it seems is easier then smelling, tasting it takes a touch of the tongue and that should suffice, smelling, as per the above proved an arduous task. Once again I looked around sheepishly, this time being more aware of other peoples movements as I was about to realise if my childhood memory of blue had lived on forever, arm at the ready, it had to be about pace here, no dawdling or it could cause a commotion as to why im eating, well tasting a highlighter, a blue highlighter the lesser brother of the yellow, orange and pink, moved to the ready, eyes darting around concentrating solely on the passer byers I moved with a swift graceful action only to be met with nothing, in all the build up commotion I had failed to remove the cap. I once again stepped up to the start line, arm at the ready, double checked the cap had been removed and went for the kill, tongue meeting felt like tip, tastebuds working into overtime to try and connect any flavour.
I had held high hopes, I was bracing for an over joyous smile as my favourite flavour of the past was about to return to me, in the most unlikely of places, and if truth be told, the most unlikely of sources. The overall result was a disappointing one, obviously the love of bubble gum flavour and its relationship with blue had only lived within me and not the makers of the EXP highlighter.
This had thrown into chaos the relationship between blue and bubblegum, had my whole childhood memory been ripped apart by the makers at EXP, or was this just a one off that should encourage me to discover other blue delights… to give up or not to give up….
Intrigued to know if this still rang true, if someone out there had kept with the traditions of my childhood, I sheepishly looked around while I removed the lid from the highlighter as if to show I was about to use it, not about to smell, and if agreeable by smell, then more than likely taste. Having removed the lid I once again looked around and feigned a scratchy nose to place the highlighter at a distance where a smell could so happen pass. My valid attempts proved un-wanting as a fleeting pass did not provide the sufficient study time to make a concrete decision. Still determined to see if someone out there would allow me to relive my childhood blue memories I had to think of other ways to feed my childish curiosity. At this point I was thinking why don’t I just take the plunge and stick the highlighter up my nose, well, im one for an adventure, I don’t like to make things obvious, and, well, by making it look obvious it could show that I have some sort of problem and need to find elaborate ways to get high during the day, which I don’t (need to get high).
The next step involved aggressively highlighting particular sections of a piece of paper, making the paper so moist (al) that it almost rips, not from the aggressiveness of the highlighting, but from the almost complete drying out of the highlighter, although I was quite aggressive towards the paper with highlighter in hand, I still had to put cover on that I wasn’t up to something suspicious. As I completed my highlighting tasks it came to the realisation that it wasn’t going to work, holding a piece of paper to my face littered with blotches of blue would look as bad, if not worse than holding a highlighter to my nose for an extended period of time.
A number of other ideas ran through my head, each as worse as the other in disguising this feat of gauging the childhood memory, does blue always smell and taste like bubblegum flavour. It first came from the ice cream, which in my eyes was clearly the best ice cream flavour on the market, whenever I ate it I always removed the napkin from around the cone, there was no way that any was going to be wasted on a napkin, im more likely to lick my hand, and as n most cases the melted ice cream followed like a stream down my wrist and on occasion hitting close to my elbow, areas I would be more than happy to deal with the threat of stickiness provided I could somehow get one last lick of the bubblegum flavour, you see with the napkin it defiles the flavour, makes it tasteless, or more taste like soggy paper than the bubblegum ice cream which I had spent my hard earned pocket money on.
I didn’t want to let this fly, there was only one thing I could, and probably from the outset should do. I had to taste it. Tasting it seems is easier then smelling, tasting it takes a touch of the tongue and that should suffice, smelling, as per the above proved an arduous task. Once again I looked around sheepishly, this time being more aware of other peoples movements as I was about to realise if my childhood memory of blue had lived on forever, arm at the ready, it had to be about pace here, no dawdling or it could cause a commotion as to why im eating, well tasting a highlighter, a blue highlighter the lesser brother of the yellow, orange and pink, moved to the ready, eyes darting around concentrating solely on the passer byers I moved with a swift graceful action only to be met with nothing, in all the build up commotion I had failed to remove the cap. I once again stepped up to the start line, arm at the ready, double checked the cap had been removed and went for the kill, tongue meeting felt like tip, tastebuds working into overtime to try and connect any flavour.
I had held high hopes, I was bracing for an over joyous smile as my favourite flavour of the past was about to return to me, in the most unlikely of places, and if truth be told, the most unlikely of sources. The overall result was a disappointing one, obviously the love of bubble gum flavour and its relationship with blue had only lived within me and not the makers of the EXP highlighter.
This had thrown into chaos the relationship between blue and bubblegum, had my whole childhood memory been ripped apart by the makers at EXP, or was this just a one off that should encourage me to discover other blue delights… to give up or not to give up….
old blog about awkwardness and confort
Generally, once a week I go food shopping, well the big shop where I buy the staples for the week, the week is littered with other little stop offs, but this once a week shop involves my back pack, when the back pack comes out it generally means the heavier items – think juice. Sunday was my choice this week for the big shop, I was slightly hung over, this was a result of Friday night, not Saturday, I skipped the hangover on Saturday on account of still being intoxicated, it was hot on Sunday, which made my hangover all the worse, worse that it was hot, and worse that it was a day late. When my backpack in involved it generally means I take my cd player and headphones for the journey to my Safeway.
About 200 meters into the walk my batteries ran out, which meant the next 40 minutes or so would be spent listening to Safeway music (which wasn’t so bad, they played MC Hammer ‘Cant Touch This’ which gets my nod every time), but it meant that I would be dictated to as to what I have to listen to. The thought ran through my head that I could just leave my headphones on to muffle the sound of the music in the supermarket, it also acts as a deterrent for all the beggars out the front of the supermarket asking for money, I can just pretend I cant hear their pleas. It worked, I entered Safeway with the same amount of money I left home with (the exit I was 15c short).
I walked into Safeway ready for my shop, basket in hand, shopping list armed. As I walked in I recognised someone from my bus, this was quite an awkward moment, we both made eye contact, then I was stumped, do I nod in acknowledgement? Do I smile to be courteous? Im not sure of the protocol in said situation, is it rude not to acknowledge someone you see daily, and who at times may sit next too on the morning journey? I walk home from work each day, and I see the same people as I walk home, but I don’t acknowledge them as that’s the environment we know each other in. It’s the same with bus person, I don’t acknowledge them on the bus, nor should I be expected too, but to see them outside of the, well, comfort zone of the public bus, got me thinking what do you do in such a situation? After I realised what I was wearing I thought it be best not to bring attention to myself with possibly unwarranted acknowledgement.
I aged on Sunday, probably about 34 years to about 60. I wore socks and sandals. Although it’s a terrible fashion mistake, I figure a few things. Firstly, old guys wear it, they are far more experienced in life than I am, and surely they must know whats best for the warm days, they have 60 years of experience in it compared to my measly 26, they definitely have veteran status. I can only figure you get smarter and learn more the older you get, these guys are old, they know. But theres something else I like about the socks and sandals, they offer two fantastic things, firstly, the warmth of a sock in the air-conditioned buildings on hot days, whilst also offering the freedom without heat restrictions that shoes seem to capture. Is it the best of both worlds? Or is it a mistake which may have dragged my coolness credibility back to where I truly belong?
I only saw the one person (bus person) who I recognised in Safeway, after consultation with a friend about the wearing of socks and sandals, and that they aren’t really that cool based on the fact I pointed them out on a portly eastern European man and made comment that it was wrong I was slightly embarrassed with the knowledge that I would see that person on the bus the next morning. What if she had friends on the bus and told them that I wear socks and sandals, would I be forced from the back part of the bus where I usually sit to the uncool status of front seat nerd. There was only one thing to do, one thing that would allow me to remain at the back of the bus and avoid the awkward state of not acknowledging someone outside of our usual meeting point. I caught the later bus.
If truth be told, Im still not over the socks and sandals things, I mean, these old guys know their shit, they would have had years and years to perfect the most comfortable thing for themselves, and if theres one thing I appreciate, its comfort.
About 200 meters into the walk my batteries ran out, which meant the next 40 minutes or so would be spent listening to Safeway music (which wasn’t so bad, they played MC Hammer ‘Cant Touch This’ which gets my nod every time), but it meant that I would be dictated to as to what I have to listen to. The thought ran through my head that I could just leave my headphones on to muffle the sound of the music in the supermarket, it also acts as a deterrent for all the beggars out the front of the supermarket asking for money, I can just pretend I cant hear their pleas. It worked, I entered Safeway with the same amount of money I left home with (the exit I was 15c short).
I walked into Safeway ready for my shop, basket in hand, shopping list armed. As I walked in I recognised someone from my bus, this was quite an awkward moment, we both made eye contact, then I was stumped, do I nod in acknowledgement? Do I smile to be courteous? Im not sure of the protocol in said situation, is it rude not to acknowledge someone you see daily, and who at times may sit next too on the morning journey? I walk home from work each day, and I see the same people as I walk home, but I don’t acknowledge them as that’s the environment we know each other in. It’s the same with bus person, I don’t acknowledge them on the bus, nor should I be expected too, but to see them outside of the, well, comfort zone of the public bus, got me thinking what do you do in such a situation? After I realised what I was wearing I thought it be best not to bring attention to myself with possibly unwarranted acknowledgement.
I aged on Sunday, probably about 34 years to about 60. I wore socks and sandals. Although it’s a terrible fashion mistake, I figure a few things. Firstly, old guys wear it, they are far more experienced in life than I am, and surely they must know whats best for the warm days, they have 60 years of experience in it compared to my measly 26, they definitely have veteran status. I can only figure you get smarter and learn more the older you get, these guys are old, they know. But theres something else I like about the socks and sandals, they offer two fantastic things, firstly, the warmth of a sock in the air-conditioned buildings on hot days, whilst also offering the freedom without heat restrictions that shoes seem to capture. Is it the best of both worlds? Or is it a mistake which may have dragged my coolness credibility back to where I truly belong?
I only saw the one person (bus person) who I recognised in Safeway, after consultation with a friend about the wearing of socks and sandals, and that they aren’t really that cool based on the fact I pointed them out on a portly eastern European man and made comment that it was wrong I was slightly embarrassed with the knowledge that I would see that person on the bus the next morning. What if she had friends on the bus and told them that I wear socks and sandals, would I be forced from the back part of the bus where I usually sit to the uncool status of front seat nerd. There was only one thing to do, one thing that would allow me to remain at the back of the bus and avoid the awkward state of not acknowledging someone outside of our usual meeting point. I caught the later bus.
If truth be told, Im still not over the socks and sandals things, I mean, these old guys know their shit, they would have had years and years to perfect the most comfortable thing for themselves, and if theres one thing I appreciate, its comfort.
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