I need the freedom to run when I choose to
if you want to feel miserable and ruin your day, there is one sure thing to accomplish that in no time: ride an escalator in this city.
imagine this:
you are in a hurry. you are pretty sure that the particular cd you want to purchase is not only unavailable in this city's record store, but furthermore totally unknown to the skin irritated gel boy at the counter, anyway. still, you try. you hope. it's been twelve times, but still, you hope. you know you have to make your way all up to the fourth floor (and that's the top floor of about any building in this city, too), and there they are. the escalators. now, remember, you are in a hurry. you're lucky, it is not even that crowded today. just this lovely old couple, right in front of you, on the escalator. standing next to each other, blocking your way. now, you've been to london, you've read about tokyo, you know there is actually a solution.
walk left, stand right.
but they don't know that. they still think that "a whole don carlos with, like, wigs" would be heaven. so, you carefully approach them and try to wait patiently. of course, you fail. then you step a little closer. and a little closer. great, now you are all uncomfourtable. though, what you want, they do not see. you think about saying something, but you have this dream that they might figure it out themselves, since it bloody is common sense. they don't. you're still in a hurry, the escalator is really slow, and now you are raging mad. but since you know of the reputation young people have when it comes to the elderly, anyway, you pull yourself together for one last time, and you politely cough.
she's turning around. she really is turning around!
no, wait, she just gave you that look ("screw you, back in my age you would have got your hair cut and your cheek slapped"), and turns back around. her husband doesn't even notice you. well, that's it. you're done. due to all the unmanaged anger, you quite yell at them: MAY I PLEASE! and try to push them aside and walk past them. in both alert and plain disgust the husband now slowly turns around. and with his tiny, yet irritatingly disparaging voice, you hear him utter the one sentence that until today you hold as holy in a shrine:
"why would you want to walk, it is moving, isn't it."
imagine this:
you are in a hurry. you are pretty sure that the particular cd you want to purchase is not only unavailable in this city's record store, but furthermore totally unknown to the skin irritated gel boy at the counter, anyway. still, you try. you hope. it's been twelve times, but still, you hope. you know you have to make your way all up to the fourth floor (and that's the top floor of about any building in this city, too), and there they are. the escalators. now, remember, you are in a hurry. you're lucky, it is not even that crowded today. just this lovely old couple, right in front of you, on the escalator. standing next to each other, blocking your way. now, you've been to london, you've read about tokyo, you know there is actually a solution.
walk left, stand right.
but they don't know that. they still think that "a whole don carlos with, like, wigs" would be heaven. so, you carefully approach them and try to wait patiently. of course, you fail. then you step a little closer. and a little closer. great, now you are all uncomfourtable. though, what you want, they do not see. you think about saying something, but you have this dream that they might figure it out themselves, since it bloody is common sense. they don't. you're still in a hurry, the escalator is really slow, and now you are raging mad. but since you know of the reputation young people have when it comes to the elderly, anyway, you pull yourself together for one last time, and you politely cough.
she's turning around. she really is turning around!
no, wait, she just gave you that look ("screw you, back in my age you would have got your hair cut and your cheek slapped"), and turns back around. her husband doesn't even notice you. well, that's it. you're done. due to all the unmanaged anger, you quite yell at them: MAY I PLEASE! and try to push them aside and walk past them. in both alert and plain disgust the husband now slowly turns around. and with his tiny, yet irritatingly disparaging voice, you hear him utter the one sentence that until today you hold as holy in a shrine:
"why would you want to walk, it is moving, isn't it."
posted by florian at 21:03
1 Comments:
I have this blog to do my mind-yoga. I tried actual yoga, but with this blog, you can have coffee at the same time:)
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