My Commute (Today)
I ran to catch my bus this morning, the bus driver kind enough to open the doors to me in the middle of an intersection. Missing it would have meant a wait in the too-cold pre-dawn morning and prevented me from my goal of being downtown by 7:00, a goal I missed by 8 minutes.
Sometimes good enough is well, good enough. I have to leave by 3:00 to be at the gym by 4:30 in order to be at rehearsal by 6:00. We are in “tech week” (what the director calls it) or “hell week” which is what the actors call it. Tech week is the tedious act of doing the same scene over and over again until you wring any spontaneity out of the scene. It is equally essential as it takes into account all lighting and sound queues include the orchestra. Since this is going to be recorded, I will in fact be posting it on You Tube for the viewing pleasure of my 13 readers. This will be a nice montage to cut to when I’m someday abducted and held for ransom for my anti-Palin commentary.
In the village, a man got on the bus and as I am want to do before the caffeine kicks in, I record every imaginable detail about him that I can from my vantage point, two seats behind him.
He was wearing hideous black comfort loafers but as a commuter, I find myself envying the cloud-like soles and wanting a pair despite their ugliness which is only slightly less than the loathsome Crocs. A black animal skin jacket poorly mimics supple lambskin and sits atop faded brushed twill pants that are indistinguishable as black or blue and that are too short and reveal navy blue socks, reveal too either his color blindness or the blindness we all get when our heads are cloudy with the need for more sleep. A vendor-sponsored knit cap completes his look- this one embroidered with Motorola.
In my early twenties when I both understood and followed fashion, I would have made a snarky comment about him being a walking fashion “don’t” minus the black bar obscuring his eyes, protecting his identity.
Now, I think that at one point, those pants fit and they were either blue or black then. They shrunk from too many washings, tossed in with things like towels and bathmats instead of washed with like colors, like textures. Either that or his ass got bigger, taking up more room in the leg, hoisting them two inches too short. The waist still fits, of course, as men simply lift their soft bellies over the tops of their pants to close them low around the hips. Dry Cleaning them? When the tag promised “wrinkle resistant”? Why would you waste the money, especially when the condo you bought just a few years ago is now worth $100,000 less then it ought to be?
At the Pentagon metro, he disappears in the swarms of people heading underground to the metro that will take him to a job and though he lives in my neighborhood, I may never see him again…
…unless I catch that same bus tomorrow.
Since I am young and care about how people dress, I will go ahead and say it…. that guy should have never worn that stuff and should be embarrased throughout the day……. also, one should always take the time to make themselves look nice and presentable…. which he wasn’t….. ha, maybe a bit harsh, but I will admit to it, I judge people by how they dress. First impressions are huge.