I love the smell of a clean, well-groomed man who has a nice, subtle but sexy cologne on. I enjoy walking past an attractive man whose scent arouses my senses. But that's the end of it. I don't linger or investigate or comment, unlike....
This morning I stood in line waiting for my lottery number to be called, and this guy in his early 40s was walking toward me to get in line. I'd describe him as an average looking guy with a decent suit, nice shoes, and a fetish. He walked behind me, perhaps a little closer than I'd normally like, but I told myself it was just because he was avoiding something on the other side of him. He passes me and then turns around and doubles back to me. I only sort of halfway noticed that he'd come back until he buried is face in my hair!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He bunched a handful of my hair and just nosedived into it! He made a sort of low-throat "mmmmmmmmmmm" sound as he sniffed with all of his olfactory might. I recoiled forward and turned around with a strong expletive that questioned his motives and mental health. He simply smiled in a slow, mental-patient kind of way and said "you smell so nice." Oh my God! REALLY?
The woman standing next to me was in TEARS laughing at this scene. I was just standing there being sensually violated by this guy's nose, and he was smiling at me like it was perfectly normal to just walk up and hair-sniff a woman! I was partially in shock. The lady next to me who couldn't stop laughing got hers next, but she wasn't laughing so hard when he gave her a sniffing and was not pleased with her scent. He wrinkled his nose and pointed to me and said "eh, you smell better!" and then he smiled and walked to the back of the line.
I would have totally knocked the guy out, but his little jab at the other lady made me happy. So I ducked into my ride with a smile on my face and a mental note to replace my perfume immediately.
Ahhhhh, the slug's life, ain't it grand!
Friday, November 14, 2008
Friday, November 7, 2008
Optimism
I am decidedly pessimistic, and I am not ashamed of it. I see things through a tainted lens of cynicism that drives most people insane, but I regard it as my shield from inevitable disappointment. If I enter a situation assuming the other person will let me down, and they do, then I don't leave that situation feeling crushed by the betrayal of my optimism. But that's just me. There are so many out there who are optimists, or at least they hopeful to become one. Yesterday, I had a truly inspirational epiphany that will probably fade soon, but for today, I feel inspired enough to share the positives of slugging.
Yesterday, I had to break away from my normal routine and go to a different location on the other side of DC from where I normally go. This meant that I didn't know any of my fellow riders or drivers, and I had no clue where I would actually get dropped off (sometimes the location we agree on is just a "suggestion" that you hope gets you close to your actual destination.) Ironically, luck was on my side, and someone drove up calling out my new location and was actually going to the same building as me. I got in and celebrated my luck, and my luck improved even more. The driver and rider was this really nice lesbian couple who were so friendly and helpful. I explained that I normally did not go to this particular location, to which the passenger responded "yeah, we see you in line everyday, but we've never picked you up." (**I'll hesitate here for you to have the same reaction as me**) So, I smiled and explained that I'm just a one-timer, and we all began to chit-chat about various things. We talked about traffic, the election, the weather, the fall foliage, and then slugging in general. I got the low-down on how to get home, and I even got a hand-drawn map! It was just a really nice experience, and I feel like I made 2 new friends that I'll never see again. :)
I went on my way to a long day of meetings and discussions and discussions and meetings, and I left just exhausted. I was dreading the end of the day a bit because, despite my custom map, I was not confident that I'd get a ride home. Basically, the location of this "slug line" was this "the third planter on the right." Yeah, it's that specific. I hiked up the road looking for the magical planter, and I saw a line of people. I stopped and asked if they were going the same place as me, and the nice lady directed me to the correct planter at which there was a car waiting.
The next few moments were surreal for me. Things crossed my mind that normally don't. I slug everyday without even thinking about what I'm actually doing, but for a moment, it was like I was having an out of body experience. I walked up to this man's car who was sitting at the curb. I instantly felt like a hooker. I leaned down and he lowered his passenger window. I asked if he was going my way, and he said yes. Still feeling like a hooker. I almost expected him to ask "how much?". I smiled a bit at the humor of that whole exchange, and I confirmed with him once again, using different terms, that he was indeed going to my location. He said yes again, and I climbed in. At this moment, I asked myself "isn't this what we teach our children NOT to do?"
He had someone already sitting in the back, and I didn't realize it until I got in because of the tinted windows. The initial shock of that realization had me a little nervous, but I calmed down a bit when the driver's cell phone went off and he answered it to have a discussion about dinner plans with his wife and kids. Certainly he and his backseat buddy didn't intend to kill or rape me right after placing an order for General Tsao's chicken.
The pessimist in me stayed on guard for most of the ride, watching and waiting for signals of my impending doom. Fortunately, nothing appeared. It was completely and totally uninteresting. He was a good driver whose windshield needed to be cleaned. He listened to bad Top 40 music on the radio, and he kept his thoughts to himself. The person in the backseat sat typing on his blackberry, and we all arrived to the sluglot unscathed and a little bored with the whole routine of it all.
As I stepped out onto the pavement of the lot that I park in and ride from every day, I looked around at the hundreds and hundreds of cars of people just like me and I saw optimism. Every person parked in that lot rides to work with strangers, who can sometimes become friends. We put our faith in each other in a mutual relationship based on blind trust and optimism. We are optimistic that the driver picking us up will get us where we are going safely, and that optimism is met with results day after day. A process of quasi-institutionalized hitchhiking works in an area where people choose to live long distances away from the big bad city. We share a common suburban personality with big-city ambitions, and we all go to and from work everyday joined in anonymous camaraderie. When a new person reaches out a hand for help and guidance, we gladly take it and show them the way because we all started in that same place.
Some of my best "critics" of this blog often say to me that I'm too negative, that I focus on the bad things and leave out the good. My epiphany was this. This entire blog is based on optimism. I wouldn't have a blog if I were not a little optimistic. I take my experiences and find the pieces that are entertaining to me, but the underlining message is that despite whatever "negative" experiences I have, I continue to rely on strangers to get me take me back and forth to work. I stand in line everyday knowing that I will get in someone's car who has a life about which I know nothing.
With all the negativity, pessimism, and discontent in this world, I embrace my general pessimistic attitude by providing a daily account of my inherently optimistic actions.
The thing that makes Americans great and unique is that we can hope for a better future while complaining about the present. It's the one quality that has allowed us to emerge triumphantly from depressions and world and civil wars. We experience fear, disappointment, frustration, and sacrifice, but we do so because we believe in a "better time." We believe that it will all work out.
So, I will wait in line with my fellow sluggers and confidently ride in cars with strangers.
Yesterday, I had to break away from my normal routine and go to a different location on the other side of DC from where I normally go. This meant that I didn't know any of my fellow riders or drivers, and I had no clue where I would actually get dropped off (sometimes the location we agree on is just a "suggestion" that you hope gets you close to your actual destination.) Ironically, luck was on my side, and someone drove up calling out my new location and was actually going to the same building as me. I got in and celebrated my luck, and my luck improved even more. The driver and rider was this really nice lesbian couple who were so friendly and helpful. I explained that I normally did not go to this particular location, to which the passenger responded "yeah, we see you in line everyday, but we've never picked you up." (**I'll hesitate here for you to have the same reaction as me**) So, I smiled and explained that I'm just a one-timer, and we all began to chit-chat about various things. We talked about traffic, the election, the weather, the fall foliage, and then slugging in general. I got the low-down on how to get home, and I even got a hand-drawn map! It was just a really nice experience, and I feel like I made 2 new friends that I'll never see again. :)
I went on my way to a long day of meetings and discussions and discussions and meetings, and I left just exhausted. I was dreading the end of the day a bit because, despite my custom map, I was not confident that I'd get a ride home. Basically, the location of this "slug line" was this "the third planter on the right." Yeah, it's that specific. I hiked up the road looking for the magical planter, and I saw a line of people. I stopped and asked if they were going the same place as me, and the nice lady directed me to the correct planter at which there was a car waiting.
The next few moments were surreal for me. Things crossed my mind that normally don't. I slug everyday without even thinking about what I'm actually doing, but for a moment, it was like I was having an out of body experience. I walked up to this man's car who was sitting at the curb. I instantly felt like a hooker. I leaned down and he lowered his passenger window. I asked if he was going my way, and he said yes. Still feeling like a hooker. I almost expected him to ask "how much?". I smiled a bit at the humor of that whole exchange, and I confirmed with him once again, using different terms, that he was indeed going to my location. He said yes again, and I climbed in. At this moment, I asked myself "isn't this what we teach our children NOT to do?"
He had someone already sitting in the back, and I didn't realize it until I got in because of the tinted windows. The initial shock of that realization had me a little nervous, but I calmed down a bit when the driver's cell phone went off and he answered it to have a discussion about dinner plans with his wife and kids. Certainly he and his backseat buddy didn't intend to kill or rape me right after placing an order for General Tsao's chicken.
The pessimist in me stayed on guard for most of the ride, watching and waiting for signals of my impending doom. Fortunately, nothing appeared. It was completely and totally uninteresting. He was a good driver whose windshield needed to be cleaned. He listened to bad Top 40 music on the radio, and he kept his thoughts to himself. The person in the backseat sat typing on his blackberry, and we all arrived to the sluglot unscathed and a little bored with the whole routine of it all.
As I stepped out onto the pavement of the lot that I park in and ride from every day, I looked around at the hundreds and hundreds of cars of people just like me and I saw optimism. Every person parked in that lot rides to work with strangers, who can sometimes become friends. We put our faith in each other in a mutual relationship based on blind trust and optimism. We are optimistic that the driver picking us up will get us where we are going safely, and that optimism is met with results day after day. A process of quasi-institutionalized hitchhiking works in an area where people choose to live long distances away from the big bad city. We share a common suburban personality with big-city ambitions, and we all go to and from work everyday joined in anonymous camaraderie. When a new person reaches out a hand for help and guidance, we gladly take it and show them the way because we all started in that same place.
Some of my best "critics" of this blog often say to me that I'm too negative, that I focus on the bad things and leave out the good. My epiphany was this. This entire blog is based on optimism. I wouldn't have a blog if I were not a little optimistic. I take my experiences and find the pieces that are entertaining to me, but the underlining message is that despite whatever "negative" experiences I have, I continue to rely on strangers to get me take me back and forth to work. I stand in line everyday knowing that I will get in someone's car who has a life about which I know nothing.
With all the negativity, pessimism, and discontent in this world, I embrace my general pessimistic attitude by providing a daily account of my inherently optimistic actions.
The thing that makes Americans great and unique is that we can hope for a better future while complaining about the present. It's the one quality that has allowed us to emerge triumphantly from depressions and world and civil wars. We experience fear, disappointment, frustration, and sacrifice, but we do so because we believe in a "better time." We believe that it will all work out.
So, I will wait in line with my fellow sluggers and confidently ride in cars with strangers.
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