Random thoughts

It has been almost a week since my last post and for that I apologize. Truth is it's been a slow week and not much to write about. Well that's not entirely true, I have a lot going on but it is work-related and therefore off limits to talk about. My job follows the first two rules of Fight Club (Rule #1: You do not talk about your job. Rule #2: You DO NOT talk about your job.) As my boss put it, I am cleared for the "nuclear bomb secrets" of my company, but the price I pay for being in the know is that I can't talk about it with anyone. So as a result, large chunks of my day are pretty much off limits to writing about. So instead you get my random thoughts about things that either happen to me personally, or that I read about in the news or on the net. This post will be one of the former.

I went out to lunch yesterday with a colleague, and when I stopped by her office at lunchtime she was downloading songs to her ipod. We started talking about our respective ipod's and she said that the two essential things to own when you live in the city is an ipod and sunglasses. I ask her why sunglasses and she replies that it prevents tourists from making eye contact with you and then they don't ask you questions. The light bulb above my head goes on. I've found that if you are dressed in a suit in the city, people assume you know how to get everywhere and would be happy to help them find where they are going. Now I am pretty familiar with the city, and know how to get to the popular touristy places, but a) have not memorized every detail of the subway and bus maps, and b) just want to be left alone so I can get where I'm going in peace. As I leave work that day, I am thinking about what my colleague said about eye contact, and decide to try it out. I don't normally bring sunglasses with me since I wear glasses and switching back and forth can be a pain, but I decide that I will consciously avoid eye contact with everyone on the sidewalk to see if I can get to Penn Station without a tourist asking me for directions. I no sooner finish this thought when a late teens tourist girl foils my plan by running, full speed, straight at me. It is hard not to look at someone when they are running straight at you. She stops right next to me. We are standing on the corner of 42nd and 5th. Here is the conversation that followed:

Her: Is Times Square that way? (pointing toward Madison Ave.)
Me: Uh, no. Turn around. (She turns around and is now facing west). You see all that neon right in front of you?
Her: Yeah
Me: That's it. (NB: If she were attractive I probably would've been more polite in my approach)
Her (to her friend): Ugh, we kept walking in the wrong direction.

Don't ask me how you "keep walking in the wrong direction" from Times Square. There's only 4 directions to possibly try. Nor do I know how you can be two blocks away and not see it. I tried using my ipod to scare away people from asking me questions but that doesn't work. They still ask. I think its time to start wearing sunglasses to work.

An ode to NJ Transit

(sung to the tune of "My Favorite Things")

Trains that are late 'cause of Amtrak construction
Missing connections at Newark Penn Station
Bums and panhandlers begging for change
This is why I love New Jersey Transit

Big sweaty people who could use a shower
People packed in as though they were all cattle
Pushing and shoving to get through the doors
This is why I love New Jersey Transit

Tourists with baggage that blocks all the aisles
'Lectrical problems so trains are not running
Cross-honored tickets to squeeze on the PATH
This is why I love New Jersey Transit

When the day ends
And I leave work
Ready to head home
I quickly remember I don't have my car
And that makes me feel...so sad

And the Darwin Award goes to...

I typically don't laugh at other people's stupidity if someone has died in the incident, but I'll make an exception for this. Not sure how many of you all heard about the two college kids in Florida that died over the weekend. Here's a link to the story. Apparently these two geniouses climbed inside a giant 8-foot wide helium balloon that was being used to advertise a local condominium development. Not surprisingly, they died.

What could these two have been thinking before they did this? Obviously, if a balloon is filled with helium...there is no oxygen inside. I know we all like inhaling helium to make our voices sound funny, but there's a difference between inhaling a few puffs of helium and climbing into a balloon that is full of it, with no source of oxygen. It's simple biology. No oxygen = suffocation. Just more proof that evolution continues to weed out the weakest of the species.

Things I heard and saw in the city today

Heard by the corner of 42nd and Madison

Tourist woman, looking up at the street sign: We're on East 42nd Street. How do we get to West 42nd Street?


Seen in the 5th Ave/Bryant Park subway station

The weather was awful today. It was pouring rain. Subway tunnels were flooded and some trains weren't running. It was 5pm on a Friday. The station is packed literally shoulder to shoulder with people all trying to move in different directions. A woman is pushing her way through the crowd, holding her 1 year old baby in front of her and pushing people out of the way with the baby while simultaneously yelling "watch out for my baby!" Honestly, you should have to pass a test before being allowed to procreate, because some people evidently aren't up to the task.

A night out

So one of my friends at work comes up to me at around 4 o'clock to see if I want to head over to Bryant Park after work. Apparently they're setting up a huge screen and showing the Yankees game. I have nothing else to do, so I say sure. Here's a play by play of the rest of the night:

6:30pm: We leave the office and walk over to Bryant Park. Thankfully the weather has cooled off a little bit from the noontime high of roughly "surface of the sun."

6:35: We arrive at Bryant Park and are immediately presented with a dilemma. The screen is set up so that the bar is behind the screen. You cannot see the game from the bar, and cannot bring drinks into the park where you can see the game. Stupid open container laws.

6:36: We decide alcohol is more important than baseball and head to the bar.

6:38: The bar is packed with people. I squeeze my way to a small open space by the corner of the bar. I am next to a 40 year old balding guy wearing a shiny black shirt, too much jewelry, and probably bathed in Drakkar before heading to the bar. He turns to me and asks sarcastically "Oh I'm sorry, am I in your way." I pretend to be oblivious to his sarcasm. I smile, and tell him no I'm fine.

6:40: I get the first round. Two bottles of beer. $14. I love New York.

6:50: Mr. Sarcasm and his friends leave the bar. After he walks past me, I feel someone give me a shove in the back. I turn to see Mr. Sarcasm and his friends laughing and walking away very quickly. It takes a real tough man to shove a guy in the back then run away. I'd like to introduce Mr. Sarcasm to my friend Mr. Pavement, but fight this urge since he's not worth my time or the visit from New York's Finest.

8:45: Six beers later, I decide it's time to start heading home. I have not seen one pitch of the Yankee game.

8:48: I remember I haven't eaten anything since lunch, but don't want to miss my train. I decide to get something to eat in Penn Station.

9:00: I get to Penn Station and realize I don't know when there are connecting trains in Newark. I get on the next train to Newark and will eat there.

9:10: My train leaves for Newark.

9:30: I arrive in Newark and see the next train home leaves at 10:11. This is more time than I'd like to spend in Newark.

9:32: I find my way to the men's room, which is only slightly cleaner than peeing a subway tunnel.

9:35: I find pizza and am happy. I go up to the train platform to enjoy my pizza and wait for the train.

9:38: There is a crack whore on the platform SCREAMING into her cell phone that she "told that motherf-cker that sh-t would poison her baby." I move to the far end of the platform so I can enjoy my pizza in peace.

9:41: I should have bought a drink with the pizza. Now I have to go back into the station to get something to drink.

9:42: I pass the crack whore again on my way to the station. She stares at me. I am scared. I put my head down and walk faster.

9:45: I am back on the platform drinking my Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper. I don't know why I picked this because I don't like Dr. Pepper. Although my train has been here the whole time, I decide to continue to wait on the platform and enjoy the fresh air.

9:47: Some guy on the platform asks me if this train goes to Plainfield. I tell him yes and he gets on the train.

9:49: A very small guy with a very large suitcase sprints to catch the train that doesn't leave for another 20 minutes, but just before he gets on he stops, turns and asks me if the train goes to Union. I say yes and he gets on.

9:51: Guy #3 asks me if the train goes to Zarepath. I say no, but he gets on the train anyway.

9:53: A woman asks if the train goes to Fanwood. I say yes and she gets on.

9:54: WHY THE HELL DOES EVERYONE ASK ME WHERE THE TRAIN GOES?!!! I realize I'm wearing a dark blue suit and these mutants (not cool mutants like the X-Men, but stupid mutants) probably think I work for NJ Transit. I decide it's time to get on the train.

9:56: I fall asleep on the train.

10:20: I am awakened by the woman behind me yelling into her phone that she is through with her boyfriend because he left her in NY to go with his friends and she's going home to her dad's house. She does not want to go with him to her sister's wedding and will go alone.

10:21: I think I have a shot at getting her number if I play the sympathy card. Then, my wheels of reason work through the remaining alcohol in my brain and I realize she is at this moment a man-hater and would go Lorena Bobbit on me if I try anything. I go back to sleep.

10:40: I wake up again to the announcement that we're arriving in Netherwood. I don't know where this is, but think it may be the ranch where Michael Jackson takes little boys to molest them. I comfort myself with the thought that I am a good 15 years too old for him and fall back asleep.

11:03: Sweet merciful God I am finally home. Now I can go to bed so I can get up and be back on a train in 7 and a half hours.