During my time in the real world, I jotted down a few notes that I figured I'd share here on the blog. Here they are:
- Long leather coats
- Irrational fear of witnessing a public suicide
- Sighing at a crosswalk (headphones)
- Fly down
Image by Tom Thiel via Wikimedia Commons |
Should I elaborate? Well, ok.
Long leather coats — During my walk home one evening, within a timeframe of about 15 minutes, I spotted not one, but TWO ladies wearing shin-length black leather overcoats. Two different, completely unrelated ladies. Strange to say the least.
One was a nerdy gamer type gal, about 20ish. Her coat, not fitted in the slightest, looked like a leather refrigerator box draped over her scrawny shoulders. It had big white buttons running from the very bottom all the way up to the base of the lapels. The other was in her late 40s, with Texas hair and a donkey booty (which the leather coat did no justice). Her coat was a shiny trench with a matching leather belt that tied at the waist.
Needless to say, I was baffled. Could these heinous garments—heavy, frumpy, gratuitous—really be back in fashion? Or was it just an unfortunate coincidence?
And before you ask, no, there wasn't a shin-length leather coat convention in town. I checked.
Irrational fear of witnessing a public suicide — This one's pretty self-explanatory, but yes, I have an irrational fear of witnessing a public suicide. I realised this when, at the third crosswalk in a row, I found myself taking a mental note of the cross streets and practicing my conversation with the 999 operator. This always happens. As I wait for the light to change, I can't help but imagine one of my fellow commuters jumping out into rush hour traffic. Sometimes I picture one of them pushing me off the curb into the path of a city bus. It's horrible. I always stand at least two feet back from the street, knees bent, with one foot slightly forward, bracing myself for the push.
One time, in Spokane, I witnessed the sudden aftermath of a public suicide. The guy had jumped off a parking garage and landed on a cement awning below. They'd covered him with a sheet, but his feet were sticking out Wicked Witch of the East style. It was spooky, and maybe it's stuck with me all this time. Or maybe I just seek the glory of being a top-notch ambulance beckoner.
Sighing at a crosswalk (headphones) — Another one from the crosswalk files. On the walk to work, I let out a massive sigh, like UH-Aaahhhhhhhh, while I was waiting for the light to change. I was listening to the latest episode of Serial (reviewed here) and didn't realise how loud I was being. The old lady next to me gave me a major side-eye and actually stepped away from me. I don't know if she was weirded out or just startled.
Fly down — For half the work day I had my fly down. Nobody told me (obviously, this is Britain). But I don't blame them. I wouldn't tell me if I were them. I think most people probably think taking the person aside and quickly whispering "just wanted to let you know that your fly's down" is the noble thing to do. But I actually think ignoring it and never saying anything is the best approach.
What do you think?
Love,
Margaret
P.S. I'm watching X Factor right now, and this season has an eight-piece boyband. There are EIGHT of them! It looks cray cray on stage.
OMFG~!!KJH!KH!!! A random guy just walked on stage and pretended to be one of the band members and it took security forever to notice! Hahaha. It was inevitable. INEVITABLE. #EightPieceBoyband
OMFG~!!KJH!KH!!! A random guy just walked on stage and pretended to be one of the band members and it took security forever to notice! Hahaha. It was inevitable. INEVITABLE. #EightPieceBoyband
1 comment:
Great post! There's actually a phrase in England, 'You're flying low', as a polite way of saying 'your flies are undone'. Very British of course. Would 'some' Americans, and I'm being very careful here, take this literally? I mean: 'hey man, I'm not in a god damn plane!' Or would Tom Cruise in Top Gun deliberately pull on the joystick to gain altitude or make a show of 'zipping up' whilst blasting along at Mach 2... Who knows...I bet Kelly McGillis wouldn't have told him...Hmmm.
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