Coffee, computer, and a new bank account!
I took the train downtown with Shawn today and am now sitting in a very orange coffee shop/bank. They have a flat screen TV playing CNN and music that's too loud. The screens of the computers are positioned in such a way that you will have a terrible neck ache if you go past the thirty minute time limit. I'm already starting to experience vertigo.
Today reminded me that I wish I still took the train to work. The people watching is great--we saw no fewer than 5 Ali G. look alikes in our car alone (I also saw two different men today blowing snot out of their noses onto the sidewalk. WHY is this okay? Does this behavior have to do with testosterone? I have never seen a woman do this unless she was on the last two miles of a marathon). Another thing about the train is the intimacy of it; public transportation is really the only time you're that close to people you don't know. You can read the titles of the books they're reading, hear the music on their Walkmans, observe their shaving nicks, gray hairs, ragged fingernails, low hanging jeans, smell the shampoo on someone's still wet head, watch people fall asleep, and today, there were three people sitting together and one of the guys suddenly pulled a large soft pretzel out of his pocket and divided it into three parts to share with his friends. Just reminds you that you're in the city. When I drive to work, I'm all by myself and am not paying much attention to what's around me except for other cars and traffic lights. At the end of the day, I drive home and go inside for the night. An entire week can pass without me remembering I live in Philadelphia. My world consists of Temple and Fishtown. I guess I could start taking the bus but I don't like it as much as the train. We might be moving offices and so the Number 3 would drop me off right where I need to be. We'll see what happens.
God, this music sucks: ("My father took me to the city when I was young and he said when you grow up will you defeat them, your demons and all the nonbelievers, the plans that they have made. Because one day, I'll leave you, a phantom, to lead you in the summer to join the black parade.") Pair these lyrics with a repetitious, slow, four note tune. And now they've burst into a drum filled cock rock sound. "Will carry on...will carry on...will carry on." Is this a religious song? Am I in a bank that serves coffee, offers the use of a computer, and brainwashes you to love Jesus? I feel like every mainstream guy band now sounds like Third Eye Blind (?) or Hanson with heavy guitar.
Okay, maybe I'll write more later when I get back to Fishtown and go to the one coffee shop in a twenty mile radius.
Today reminded me that I wish I still took the train to work. The people watching is great--we saw no fewer than 5 Ali G. look alikes in our car alone (I also saw two different men today blowing snot out of their noses onto the sidewalk. WHY is this okay? Does this behavior have to do with testosterone? I have never seen a woman do this unless she was on the last two miles of a marathon). Another thing about the train is the intimacy of it; public transportation is really the only time you're that close to people you don't know. You can read the titles of the books they're reading, hear the music on their Walkmans, observe their shaving nicks, gray hairs, ragged fingernails, low hanging jeans, smell the shampoo on someone's still wet head, watch people fall asleep, and today, there were three people sitting together and one of the guys suddenly pulled a large soft pretzel out of his pocket and divided it into three parts to share with his friends. Just reminds you that you're in the city. When I drive to work, I'm all by myself and am not paying much attention to what's around me except for other cars and traffic lights. At the end of the day, I drive home and go inside for the night. An entire week can pass without me remembering I live in Philadelphia. My world consists of Temple and Fishtown. I guess I could start taking the bus but I don't like it as much as the train. We might be moving offices and so the Number 3 would drop me off right where I need to be. We'll see what happens.
God, this music sucks: ("My father took me to the city when I was young and he said when you grow up will you defeat them, your demons and all the nonbelievers, the plans that they have made. Because one day, I'll leave you, a phantom, to lead you in the summer to join the black parade.") Pair these lyrics with a repetitious, slow, four note tune. And now they've burst into a drum filled cock rock sound. "Will carry on...will carry on...will carry on." Is this a religious song? Am I in a bank that serves coffee, offers the use of a computer, and brainwashes you to love Jesus? I feel like every mainstream guy band now sounds like Third Eye Blind (?) or Hanson with heavy guitar.
Okay, maybe I'll write more later when I get back to Fishtown and go to the one coffee shop in a twenty mile radius.
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