Chandri MacLeod (chandri) wrote,
Chandri MacLeod

  • Mood:
I am both impressed and terrified by people who bring their very thin (and therefore very, very expensive) laptops to school and carry them in their backpacks, squished between binder and textbooks. Scary. Scares me. Don't know I'm quite that brave. o.O

I am also somewhat in awe of these giant, megalithic three-wheeled bike... stroller... things. When I was that big we got these ramshackle plastic things and your butt went in what amounted to a broadcloth sling. These things have storage space, and a roof, and I can only wonder whether these children are being trained to shoplift. There's certainly enough space. (Although when *I* was two, I managed just fine with just the cushion under my butt, thanks. None of this carrying around of the house to help innnocently lift merchandise, oh no. I mean, *I* was an independent operator, and everything, but... Kids these days. *headshake*)

I think that there's something about an arriving train that strikes many people stupid. Otherwise they would be able to read the STAND THE FUCK BACK sign that is affixed to EVERY SINGLE DOOR, YOU FUCKWITS.


Oh... and that woman last year (or maybe a couple of years ago) who slipped a tract into my bag? I SAW HER AGAIN. No kidding.

I didn't recognize her at first, of course, but she stood really, really close to me at the bus stop (presumably to avoid all the brown people, rough-looking white men, and most especially the guy in the wheelchair - someone remind me again why it is bad to push the stupid lady in front of the bus?), and just as I was wondering whywhywhy everyone for a six-foot radius chose that instant to take their smoke break, she said: "Didn't you have purple hair the last time I saw you?"

I looked up, and it was her. I totally couldn't believe it. I also couldn't believe she recognized *me*. That right there is a blatant abuse of a photographic memory.

The best part was that she actually asked me what I thought of it. As if I'm going to feel inclined to discuss the literary merits of her creepy ketchup Jesus cartoon considering that she snuck it onto my person the last time. I swear, I was so tempted to say "I'm sorry, but I don't accept unsolicited manuscripts," but I was cold and tired, so all I did was mutter something like "I don't read those things" with what I hope was a condescending tone, and then the bus arrived then and I got on, and someone sat down next to me before she could. Christ on a whole wheat cracker, don't these people have something better to do than try to convert people who have purple hair and therefore must be evil?

I am cold. I will now remedy this with tea.

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