Who Needs School?

This morning on public transit I learned:

1. The only way you can do ecstasy is popping it or crushing it and snorting it. That’s it. There is no other way. The guy who was telling his buddies this even checked with his brother, a self-defined “drug expert” and his brother said no way. “Who you gonna believe? That stupid fuck, Joey or my brother?” We all silently agreed that his brother sounded like more of an expert.

2. “Ms. Lee is hot. At least that’s my impression.”

3. If one braggadoccio-inflicted teenage boy criticizes another braggadoccio-inflicted teenage boy’s choice of hottie, there will be a fist fight on the bus. Who cares if it’s 8 am?

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s really smart.”
“Whatever, man. I can say what I want.”
“No, you fucking can’t. I’ll kick your ass.”

Don’t you feel like you were there? You’re WELCOME!

I also realized something about cell phones. I’ve seen a lot of letters to the editor and general cantankerousness about how people using cell phones infringe on our privacy in public spaces and I’ve wondered just what everyone’s so het up about – after all, it is OK for people to have conversations with one another in public spaces, or rather, no one writes letters to the editor about the dudes on the bus extolling the virtues of coke vs. meth. I have a theory that because we only hear one half of the cell phone conversation it is irritating to us not because our privacy is being infringed upon but because we don’t get to eavesdrop on the whole conversation. Or to make it less voyeuristic, our brains need the symmetry of both sides of the story and when we only hear half, it irritates us.

Now for me, I usually enjoy listening to other peoples’ cell phone conversations on the bus because it’s funnier to only hear half and on public transit I am all about the funny.

This morning a gentleman at the bus stop kindly put his phone on the speaker phone setting and I got to hear both halves of the conversation. I found that once I got over the initial irritation of having someone basically talking right behind my head on a walkie-talkie I wasn’t even listening to the conversation anymore. I wanted to ask the other people at the bus stop what they thought but then the one guy looked like he might punch me and the woman lit a cigarette and walked away so my theory will have to be tested further at a later date.

Overall: a great trip to work. The best part, though, was when I got off the train at work and the station didn’t smell like pee and garbage, the usual daily compliment to my nausea. Instead, the station smelled like bacon. It was like some kind of wonderful dream.