The Week In Review, VI. "Walk this way…"

The Week In Review, VI. "Walk this way…"

October 2006.

Yesterday was my last Monday at McPrison. Enough said. Today is my last day at McPrison. Even better. My exit interview is at 11:30am and I can leave after that. Icing on the ecstasy cake. My boss said I'm probably allowed to stay around after the exit interview if I want to. My reaction to that was thinking I'm probably also allowed to hold my breath till I pass out, but I try not to make a habit of it. Idiot.

I have already assumed that my next job will suck too. That way, I am either right (which I love), or pleasantly surprised that it turns out to not suck (doubtful). While the attitude goes against my piss poor plans for a more positive outlook, I don't think I'd know what to do with myself if I was happy in my job. Think about it. You spend about 75% of your life at work. So, right now, I'm miserably depressed ¾ of the time I spend awake. The thing is, I love my apartment, love my friends and love NY. If I liked my job too, I'd be one of those people who walk around smiling all the time, and I think those people are legitimately crazy. A positive disposition on that level scares the hell out of me.

I’d like to jump into walking and shopping this time, mainly because I did a lot of walking this weekend while shopping. New York kind of lends itself to that, and I think as a New Yorker (or in my case, aspiring New Yorker – 7 more years to go before I earn the right to that title) I become very aware of walking patterns exercised by different groups on the street. Because I'm usually angry, or at the very least agitated, while I'm walking around, I constantly think about a more efficient way to plow people down in the street in order to get where I need to be. The solution, I believe, is for the city of NY to institute walking lanes on the sidewalks of Manhattan. As I see it, we could divide the space into three lanes of traffic:

Lane 1 – Outside, closest to the street, are the Manhattanites and some bridge and tunnel whores who work in the city. People who do not live here (or at least work here), should have to jog to keep up with anyone walking in this lane. Also, people in this lane understand that you don't wait to cross the street on the actual curb. You edge out as far as you can, like you're waiting in the track block for the start of the 200M relay, without getting killed by a passing vehicle.

Lane 2 – Riding bitch, we have runner and joggers. Anyone doing their part to make their ass fit into ONE seat on the subway or ONE seat on the bus deserves a lane in my book.

Lane 3 – Tourists. They're everywhere, and they need to get sectioned off. Living just off 5th Avenue in the 50's has its ups and downs. I find genuinely delightful the fact that it takes me no more than 2 minutes to walk to Saks, and I can see the Peninsula and St Regis from my bedroom window. However, I'm not the only one who wants to experience these places. Visiting touristas tend to want to see them too, and take pictures, lots of pictures. Now, if they had their own lane, they could walk as slow as they need to in order to take it all in, and when they require an extra hand to take their picture in front of St Patrick's Cathedral, the person they ask won't be irritated because they too want their picture taken in front of St Patty's house. In this lane, tourists can stop and watch movies being filmed on location, because they're the only ones who see this as a novelty. There's constantly a movie being shot in my neighborhood, if not on my actual street. Now, if I thought that by stopping and staring, some delicious actor would walk off the set and whisk me away, I'd loiter too. Back in the real world, I only see it as an added annoyance in my day. Sunday, for example, 5th Ave was blocked off from 54th to 49th, so I had to walk to the Madison entrance of the E-train to Hell. Awesomely enough, that was closed for the day, causing me to have to walk back up to 56th and 6th to get on the damn subway. Lastly, Times Square should have bridges with limited access to New Yorkers only who, for some sick twist of fate, are forced to walk around over there.

There are a few floaters I've left out of my ideal walking scenario: drunks, schizophrenic homeless people, and anyone who might be hung-over. They don't have a definitive walking pattern and will tend to drift in and out of all three lanes as they please. This can't be helped. Rain will also mess up the system. This is because most people lose the ability to function like normal human beings in the rain. It's a free for all in the streets. If you're fat, carrying a large umbrella and walking slow, you redefine obnoxious and raise my blood pressure to dangerous levels. That is the equivalent of a jack-knifed semi on I-95 during the holidays.

I don't think it's unreasonable to have an in-store walking code of conduct either. While the pace slows significantly from the street, people still need to stay mobile. If your ass is blocking a rack of clothing I need to get around, I have two suggestions for you:

1. Don't just stand there and pretend like you don't see someone.

2. Leave the store and go get in the running/jogging lane. You'll be happier when you're able to buy the next size down.

When I see girls with boyfriends in tote, on a Saturday in the fall, in a store like H&M or Century 21, I realize that there exists a level of "pussy-whipped" (pardon the term) above and beyond what I previously thought possible. If Hell froze over and I actually found myself in a real relationship, here's how I would want that conversation to go:

Me: "Will you go shopping with me and be the judge of how I look in the clothes I'm buying?"
Fictitious Manfriend: "HAHAHAHAHA, NO. That's cute, really, thanks for the laughs, but I have a set, and I'm taking them to the bar to go watch football."

I'm pretty sure that ass clown who can't take a hint after at least 10 unanswered calls/texts, and who doesn't watch Sportscenter is the type of guy who would just love to surrender his manhood and follow some girl around from store to store like a retarded puppy. And really, what good does the in-store manfriend provide anyway? As far as shopping buddies go, opinions are scaleable, and you should think about which one will truly do you right.

When your friend says, "You look fabulous in that" what they mean is: Yeah, yeah enough about you. I want to move on to the next store. You might have muffin tops sticking out of your jeans rather than a waist, but if you purchasing that will make you shut your mouth and allow us to move on, I frankly don't care."
When a straight guy says, "You look fabulous in that" question his sexual orientation. But when a straight guy pays you a compliment, it's not because your Diane Von Furstenberg top is stunning as it is classic and elegant. It's because you've successfully showcased your cleavage and/or have on jeans so tight that they can picture you naked.
When a gay guy says, "You look fabulous in that" then you really look fabulous in that. This is a valid opinion in its purest form. You've got a brutally honest critic not looking to get in your pants for a piece of ass. Instead, they're looking to see what those pants can do for your ass.

On a similar note from above, I genuinely feel bad for little boys whose mothers drag them along on shopping excursions against their will. I want to look at them and say, "Hey lady, you're breeding a total pansy." Eventually the kid will back down and stop fighting. He will then grow up to be the exact kind of guy to surrender his manhood on a Saturday in the fall, and follow some girl around like a retarded puppy. And honestly, some stupid screaming kid ruins everyone else's experience too. This was the case on Sunday, when some brat who should have been home with a nanny pretty much made me hate everyone in the store. Case and point, I overheard this girl say, "OMG, Marc Jacobs jeans in my size, and for only $70." My initial reaction was, "Yeah you dim-wit, what did you think? This is a designer discount store, meaning you buy designer clothes at discounted prices."

While, negativity and pessimism are constants in my life, I don't need them to surface during the precious “few” hours I spend shopping on a regular basis. I prefer to keep them locked up where they belong: at work, where they can keep me just shy of miserable 75% of the time I spend awake.

Don’t be fooled by the pearls.

VENN