I didn't grow up in the city. Sturgis, South Dakota--population 6000-- is a small town by most standards. And, for the first 31 years of my life. Sturgis and nearby municipality, Rapid City, were home. In a million years, I would never have imagined that one day I would live in San Francisco. I guess stranger things have indeed happened because here I am.
Now, on most days, I am thrilled to live in the city. I mean, what's not to love? City life has so much to offer--art museums, theatre, amazing shopping, fabulous restaurants, and cultural diversity. If you have been blessed with even the slightest sense of adventure or a mild case of curiosity, living in a city like San Francisco is like feasting on a smorgasbord of interesting encounters of every kind imaginable. I have lived in this beautiful city almost five years now, and I still find myself in awe of all it is and can be.
It's clear; I love city life. I have come to believe that i was truly born to live in this city. But there are days like today when I long for Sturgis-- population 6000. On days like these I am irritated by the thing that makes a city a city... People!
Please do not misunderstand. I like people. Really... I love people. I might even go so far as to say that I NEED people. That may actually make me one of the luckiest people in the world. On most days that is... But today... Today some people are really getting on my freakin' nerves.
Street musicians... If I wanted to hear some overweight wannabe punk rocker sing "Walk the Line," I'd tune into the Season 8 American Idol auditions. At least then I have the satisfaction of hearing Simon Cowell tell the poor soul the truth. "That was dreadful!" And seriously, the didgeridoo isn't exactly a solo instrument. Oh, and the dreadlocks and rasta hat don't make you seem counter-cultural or interesting. They simply scream "Unemployed!"
Public Transportation... Those slivers of light between our bodies? Yeah... That's our breathing room. It doesn't mean there's room for you to get on the train. What's the deal? Hasn't anyone heard about the concept of "Personal Body Space?" I sure hope that's the handle of that man's umbrella that's poking me in the ass.
Dining Out... Dining in a restaurant is supposed to be a quiet, relaxing experience. And, it can be. But, all too often there is a table where at least one patron refuses to use an "indoor voice." Is what you have to say so interesting that you feel the need to broadcast it throughout the entire place? Doubtful!! And, please...I shouldn't be able to hear you chewing at my table. I think they should issue permits or licenses allowing a few select people the privilege of dining in public. McDonald's--Now that's dining for the masses... Otherwise, if you haven't read Emily Post, order in!
It appears that I am on a roll...and I could go on forever. But, I'll save myself the time and frustration of enumerating all of the ways people bug the shit out of me. Besides, I have to psyche myself up for the Muni ride home. At least... It's FRIDAY!
Namaste...
Jerome
Now, on most days, I am thrilled to live in the city. I mean, what's not to love? City life has so much to offer--art museums, theatre, amazing shopping, fabulous restaurants, and cultural diversity. If you have been blessed with even the slightest sense of adventure or a mild case of curiosity, living in a city like San Francisco is like feasting on a smorgasbord of interesting encounters of every kind imaginable. I have lived in this beautiful city almost five years now, and I still find myself in awe of all it is and can be.
It's clear; I love city life. I have come to believe that i was truly born to live in this city. But there are days like today when I long for Sturgis-- population 6000. On days like these I am irritated by the thing that makes a city a city... People!
Please do not misunderstand. I like people. Really... I love people. I might even go so far as to say that I NEED people. That may actually make me one of the luckiest people in the world. On most days that is... But today... Today some people are really getting on my freakin' nerves.
Street musicians... If I wanted to hear some overweight wannabe punk rocker sing "Walk the Line," I'd tune into the Season 8 American Idol auditions. At least then I have the satisfaction of hearing Simon Cowell tell the poor soul the truth. "That was dreadful!" And seriously, the didgeridoo isn't exactly a solo instrument. Oh, and the dreadlocks and rasta hat don't make you seem counter-cultural or interesting. They simply scream "Unemployed!"
Public Transportation... Those slivers of light between our bodies? Yeah... That's our breathing room. It doesn't mean there's room for you to get on the train. What's the deal? Hasn't anyone heard about the concept of "Personal Body Space?" I sure hope that's the handle of that man's umbrella that's poking me in the ass.
Dining Out... Dining in a restaurant is supposed to be a quiet, relaxing experience. And, it can be. But, all too often there is a table where at least one patron refuses to use an "indoor voice." Is what you have to say so interesting that you feel the need to broadcast it throughout the entire place? Doubtful!! And, please...I shouldn't be able to hear you chewing at my table. I think they should issue permits or licenses allowing a few select people the privilege of dining in public. McDonald's--Now that's dining for the masses... Otherwise, if you haven't read Emily Post, order in!
It appears that I am on a roll...and I could go on forever. But, I'll save myself the time and frustration of enumerating all of the ways people bug the shit out of me. Besides, I have to psyche myself up for the Muni ride home. At least... It's FRIDAY!
Namaste...
Jerome
Labels: lifestyle
posted by Bohemedude's Page | 7:49 PM
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