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Morning dose of randomness
Mar. 31st, 2011 09:37 amSo, by the New Yorker code, one does not acknowledge the existence of other subway riders. It's bad enough we're all crammed together in a tube; the only way everyone can deal with the total lack of personal space is by essentially pretending we're all alone and not interacting. No talking, no eye contact. Every once in awhile, though, there's the random event that makes everyone suddenly start acting like people instead of robots again.
When I got on the train this morning, two dudes were (quite loudly) exclaiming over the cuteness of the smile of a toddler they clearly didn't know. I found a spot and then proceeded to try to read my book, only half listening, mostly because they were sufficiently loud it was difficult to ignore them. They moved on to exclaiming how that's the kind of smile you should see on a kid, to that's the kind of smile you should see on everybody and she was the only one smiling on the train, and we're all working too hard and wasting our lives because the government tells us to do so and we take our sad little two weeks of vacation because the government tells us to do that and we're dying, we're killing ourselves, we get all dressed up in our expensive clothes that look awful anyway and go to Starbucks to try to impress people but it's all chemicals and we think we're doing something good for ourselves but the chemicals are killing us and that's why the guys don't even drink tap water because the government puts fluoride in it and it's chemicals that are killing us and possibly there's mind control.
And then they got off the train.
The doors closed.
And everyone on the train looks up, looks around at each other, and just cracks up. Everyone's smiling and laughing and talking basically about how crazy those two dudes were. For a magic minute, the New Yorker code of silence was suspended for the New Yorker amusement-at-crazy-people. And then we went back to our papers and books and iPods.
I love New York.
When I got on the train this morning, two dudes were (quite loudly) exclaiming over the cuteness of the smile of a toddler they clearly didn't know. I found a spot and then proceeded to try to read my book, only half listening, mostly because they were sufficiently loud it was difficult to ignore them. They moved on to exclaiming how that's the kind of smile you should see on a kid, to that's the kind of smile you should see on everybody and she was the only one smiling on the train, and we're all working too hard and wasting our lives because the government tells us to do so and we take our sad little two weeks of vacation because the government tells us to do that and we're dying, we're killing ourselves, we get all dressed up in our expensive clothes that look awful anyway and go to Starbucks to try to impress people but it's all chemicals and we think we're doing something good for ourselves but the chemicals are killing us and that's why the guys don't even drink tap water because the government puts fluoride in it and it's chemicals that are killing us and possibly there's mind control.
And then they got off the train.
The doors closed.
And everyone on the train looks up, looks around at each other, and just cracks up. Everyone's smiling and laughing and talking basically about how crazy those two dudes were. For a magic minute, the New Yorker code of silence was suspended for the New Yorker amusement-at-crazy-people. And then we went back to our papers and books and iPods.
I love New York.
