Things I have not understood this week: A partial list
-High heels. Went to a party yesterday (and this is true of many parties) where all the girls wore shoes like this, if not always quite as blue. I think I see why they call some heels stilettos. Those things could stab someone! I had on boots more or less like these, which seems like plenty of heel to me, even if it only makes me about three and a half (non-deadly) feet tall. Also, relatedly, what is up with shoes with pointy toes? They look creepy and crocodilian.
-People who order a cheeseburger and in response to the waitress’s “Would you like cheddar on that?” ask for American cheese and are disappointed when it’s not on offer.
-The City Hall turnstile’s apparent desire to bar me from entry to the subway system despite saying I can go through. Why the MTA appears to have it in for me in general, what with that, delays, train doors slamming in my face, frozen platforms, rats on platforms, rats on platforms running into other rats on platforms and doing a worried little jumpy dance, etc., etc.
-Café bathroom graffiti. I’m not complaining about this one, but seriously, who sees “Believe in peace” and “Believe in love” on the ceiling and follows them up with “At least you’re not on fire”? Or perhaps it was the other way around?
-Facebook’s desire to send you an email notification about maybe roughly half the messages you receive, rendering planning difficult.
-Running into people in bakeries. Within the space of a week I did this twice. The first encounter was especially strange as my friend had apparently just been in another bakery and hence had no real reason to be at the one I saw him in.
-Clubs which seem to think they are cooler the closer they are to the West Side Highway. Does the U.S.S. Intrepid make you want to dance and/or buy expensive girly drinks?
-Why no one stops me after I have babbled on about either a) how great Brooklyn is, b) cute criminal tricks, or c) dumb shoes for about 15 minutes at cocktail parties.
-Why I can’t write a more elegant blog or a more functional one or a more strangely hilarious one, but instead feel compelled to churn out half-joke half-list half-rant* screeds which regularly clock in at about 400–600 words. On that note, I’m out.
*See the bottom of the page for the one I'm talking about, but it's worth checking out the rest as well.
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I had the bakery thing happen to me on Monday. Or rather coffeehouse. I was walking towards the coffeehouse and ran into my director of grad studies, who was going there for a meeting. We walked over there together, where we saw two other grad students in my department leaving. Sometimes college towns are too small. Having it happen in NYC is weirder.
ReplyDeletestabshoes on the rise
ReplyDeletekeep your children at home
definitely don't take the train
Imagine running into people in bakeries, while on high heels and then ordering a cheeseburger. Now that would be something eh? Now that, that I'd understand. It's bizarre.
ReplyDeleteYes, that's an encounter I could get behind. No alarms and no surprises there.
ReplyDelete