Blossoming Cherries
Went to the Philadelphia Cherry Blossom Festival with Luke and Dan yesterday. Only took us like 3 hours to get into the city for the remaining 45 minutes of the festival. Still, the people-watching was good. Tons of awkward 14 year old boys and girls dressed in funky clothes and walking like colts around the grounds--in that "Is everyone looking at me? God, I hope no one is watching me. Wait, why is noticing me? Am I not interesting?" kind of way. And lots of dogs, including a woman who had six little yappy dogs that she shoved all into one black mesh backpack.
I took the train into Trenton on Sat. afternoon and had to contend with two things I hate in one place--spitting and littering. So, on one side of me, there was this super tall guy in a red jobbing suit talking on his cell phone and spitting over the side of the track every 30 seconds. Really. I timed it. At the time, I was trying to eat a snack, and had to close one eye every time I saw him venture over to the side of the track to keep from seeing the white projectile volley from his pursued lips. Then this other kid was eating something and threw the wrapper over the onto the tracks. Never mind that there was a trash can about 4 feet from the bench he was sitting on. Next, he decided he didn't like whatever he had been chewing and stood over the tracks to drop it out of his mouth. Sometimes, I wish I were more aggressive; why not just go up and say some of the things I'm thinking, like, The world is not your garbage can, you little prick. The most I can manage to do is to make a disgusted face.
I took the train into Trenton on Sat. afternoon and had to contend with two things I hate in one place--spitting and littering. So, on one side of me, there was this super tall guy in a red jobbing suit talking on his cell phone and spitting over the side of the track every 30 seconds. Really. I timed it. At the time, I was trying to eat a snack, and had to close one eye every time I saw him venture over to the side of the track to keep from seeing the white projectile volley from his pursued lips. Then this other kid was eating something and threw the wrapper over the onto the tracks. Never mind that there was a trash can about 4 feet from the bench he was sitting on. Next, he decided he didn't like whatever he had been chewing and stood over the tracks to drop it out of his mouth. Sometimes, I wish I were more aggressive; why not just go up and say some of the things I'm thinking, like, The world is not your garbage can, you little prick. The most I can manage to do is to make a disgusted face.
Comments