I HATE! Assholes - Part Deux

I have a confession to make. I (gulp) wore my sunglasses on the subway last week. I know! I know! It's awful. But I had a really legit excuse for committing such an egregious hypocrisy. And you know that I wouldn't have worn sunglasses inside unless I had a really, really, really good excuse... I can only afford to look like that big of an asshole once or twice a year!

The excuse is as follows: I went to the dermatologist last week one day after work for a follow-up appointment. My first visit was rather tame - a consultation really - so I wasn't expecting anything too different the second time around. The doctor, apparently, had other plans and immediately went to work on my face. She wiped off all of my make up (with a towelette that was so saturated with alcohol that it could have been used as an anesthesia substitute) and then proceeded to poke and prod my face with some sort of crazy-looking metal tool that I initially thought to be a medieval instrument of torture.

To put it bluntly, I left the doctor's office looking like my face got stuck between a rock and a cheese grater. I had planned on reapplying 'my face' before I went back out in public, but the doctor had just blown up my spot by saying that the "large amount of make-up" I wear was probably the reason for my clogged pores, and even though I am somewhat vain, I'm not a glutton for punishment. So in lieu of the make-up, I searched my purse to try to find something that might help me to conceal my battle wounds. Save covering my entire face with a tissue, the best I could do was my (brand-new!) sunglasses. In MacGuyver-like fashion, I managed to create a disguise for myself using only the sunglasses and my hair, succeeding in almost completely concealing my identity (and the cheese-greater face). Brilliant!

Don't mind the lengthy transgression - on to the real point of this post. So here I am, walking the streets of New York at dusk idiotically wearing sunglasses as if I'm hiding from the paparazzi. I am already self-conscious enough at this point because I'm feeling super hypocritical, like a real douche. After all, I'm the one who always makes fun of those who do just what I was doing at that instant - wearing sunglasses despite the lack of sunlight. If I could have seen myself, I'm sure I would make fun of me.

Anyway, as I'm making my way to the subway, I begin to notice that people are staring at me, without even trying to hide it - just blatantly looking me up and down with expressions ranging from the stifled, cynical smirk to the completely unbridled sneer of disapproval. Let me make something clear to all the morons I encountered on the street that day: just because I am wearing sunglasses does not mean that I am blind and cannot see the way you are looking at me! Are you people retarded?!?! Correct me if I'm making assumptions here, but Ray-Ban Wayfarers usually aren't the type of glasses that might indicate that one is blind. While you may not be able to see my eyes, I can certainly still see yours AND that horribly judgemental expression written all over your face!!! My dark glasses do not obscure my view of you or any of the other people checking me out (sleazy businessman in cheap suit) or giving me undeserved dirty looks (overly made-up middle-aged woman carrying the wonky-eyed lap dog).

I'm the one wearing the sunglasses! I'm the one who should be secretly judging people! If you're going to overreact to me, my appearance, or the fact that I'm wearing sunglasses at dusk, at least demonstrate a little bit of decorum and try to hide your judgement! It's the only way to be :-)

P.S. I just found out that there is actually a song called Sunglasses at Night written and performed by a fellow named Corey Hart. He wears his sunglasses at night so he can "watch you weave and breath your story lines" and also so he can"keep track of visions" in his eyes. Hmmm... I'm not sure I approve.

I HATE! The Blocking of the Box

Have you ever noticed those 'Don't Block the Box' signs? I sure have and let me tell you that I hate hate hate hate when people block the box! For those of you who are unaware of the meaning of 'Don't Block the Box', please see the visual below.

The 'Box' in this particular circumstance, refers to the actual area of intersection between two streets, usually flanked on all four sides by traffic lights. Often times, overzealous drivers will pull their cars too far into the intersection when the light is red, thus 'blocking' the aforementioned box and in the same swift motion, these cars block the crosswalk for pedestrians attempting to cross the street. See that X in the street sign above? That X signifies no entry into that zone. And those dozens of little lines all situated right next to each other? Those represent the pedestrian crosswalks - PEDESTRIAN CROSSWALKS - they are not meant to be occupied by vehicles stopped at the red light.

Not very difficult to comprehend, right? Wrong! I can't even tell you how many times I've tried to cross the street, but have been unsuccessful because my efforts have been thwarted by overzealous drivers that pull up into the intersection! Jesus! Pulling all the way up into the intersection is not going to make the red light turn green any faster. You're not going to shave off more than a few seconds from your commute by racing up the light and slamming on your breaks. I promise that you will still get through the intersection when the light finally does turn green, even if you pull up (god forbid!) behind the crosswalk instead of in the middle of the intersection.

You may be thinking - 'Elizabeth, why is this such a big deal? You don't have a car in New York City! Why are you bemoaning this so?' Let me assure you, oh patient reader, this is a big deal. As a faithful New York City pedestrian and frequent cross-walker, I find it appalling, and frankly, fucking ANNOYING, when cars sit at a light in the middle of the cross walk. Not only is it dangerous for other drivers coming in the perpendicular direction, but it eradicates any safe place for pedestrians to cross the street. And, it's really f-ing annoying to have to weave in and out in between cars just to get to the other side of the street.

I have been very tempted, when being forced to weave in between the various vehicles blocking my crosswalk, to bang on people's hoods and/or throw rocks at people's windshields. And I've come damn close let me tell you.

I HATE! Slow Walkers

I just noticed that I am a member of a Facebook group called 'I Want to Punch Slow Walking People in the Head'. And it's totally true. I would indeed like to punch slow-walkers in the back of the head. I don't know what it is about slow things that I hate, but I really do seem to abhor them, don't I? First slow drivers and now this.

But make no mistake; this is no fly-by-night hatred that I'm expressing here. I have always hated people who walk too slow. That's probably because I am always in a rush. I am also a speed walker and slow-walkers just get in my way when I'm trying to get somewhere fast - which, as we just discussed, is always.

My opinion on this issue is similar to my opinion on slow drivers. Be slow, that's fine, but don't obstruct other people's paths in the process. Stay along the side of the sidewalk or street and allow others to pass you. Don't meander along, zig-zagging as if you're the only pedestrian on the New York City sidewalks. People are trying to get around you!

I really hate when I'm stuck behind a slow-walker, but can't go around them because there is an equally slow person coming toward you on the opposite side of the sidewalk. I feel trapped! I get panicky! If you're going to mosey along, just stick to the right side of the sidewalk. It works the same way it works when you're in a car; you stay to the right side of the road, and if you choose to pass, you, momentarily as you pass, move into the left lane to do so. For some reason, on the sidewalks, people feel as if they have license to go back and forth between the different sides of the sidewalk - NO! People seriously have a great deal of difficulty adhering to the simple unspoken rules of the concrete jungle. Everyone knows you're supposed to stay on the right hand side of the sidewalk, but most do not abide by this. Why? How hard is it to do this?????

Side note: If you're walking along and you suddenly stop, I am probably going to walk into you (on purpose). Don't stop suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk. For example, if you were in a car and you suddenly braked, the person behind you would most certainly rear-end you and fuck up your car...badly. Use that as your model. If you must stop to admire the view, tie your shoe, or scratch your ass, move over to the side and GET OUT OF THE MOTHERFUCKING WAY!

I HATE! People Who Don't Curb Their Dogs

I am in a particularly foul mood today. My apartment search has basically hit a brick wall and I'm freaking out in a major way. Therefore, I need to find something completely unrelated to bitch about in order to distract myself from thinking about my real problems. What? There's nothing wrong with this; it helps me get my aggression out in a healthy way. The alternative, non-healthy way? Beating someone up.


Anyway, I took a little trip to Dublin, Ireland (with my two future roommates actually - well, they'll only be my future roommates only if we find an apartment, and that looks like a grim prospect at the moment) and while we were there, I noticed a pretty repulsive trend. Nobody curbed their dogs; seriously, there was dog... excrement... everywhere. (Notice my hesitation here - there is something you should definitely know about me - i hate discussing poop and from now on I will refer to the aforementioned substance as DP.) Anyway, I'm talking DP all over the sidewalks. It looked like it had rained DP. It was heinous. You practically had to hop, skip, and jump your way down the street in order to avoid stepping in a big pile of DP. Seriously, I am very squeamish around DP, well actually P is general, but especially DP and the constant presence of DP on the sidewalks and streets of Dublin was just a little too much for me to handle. I couldn't figure out why no one thought letting their digs shit everywhere wasn't an issue. It's totally gross!

So that brings to mind another thing I hate - when people don't curb their dogs. Come on folks! It's a common courtesy. I realize I talk a lot about common courtesy, but really, this is one of those things that you shouldn't even have to wonder whether to do or not. It should be instinctual. No one wants to have to haphazardly navigate the sidewalks just to avoid stepping in your dog's P!

And I don't even want to get into the horror that is stepping in DP - this may in fact be one of the worst things ever! This has happened to me several times in the past and each time, I want to burn the shoes that were unfortunately sacrificed to the DP and then curl up into a ball and cry. I hate DP and I hate ruining a pair of shoes. And this circumstance causes me to face both atrocities. Ah! I can't even think about it anymore. I'm starting to feel nauseous.

The moral of the story is: clean up after your dogs, people! If you're going to insist on having them in the first place, do right by society and clean up after them. I know picking up DP with a plastic-bag-covered hand is gross, but dogs are gross. Deal with it. You can't have your cake and eat it too.

I HATE! People Who Stare at You for No Good Reason

Maybe I’m paranoid (and I'll admit that I've been told that on several occasions), but, I swear, I people are ALWAYS looking at me strangely! I'm talking obvious glares here. I don't understand it. I always thought I was a pretty generic-looking person; there's really not that much to look at. I'm not grossly overweight. I'm not stunningly gorgeous. I'm not a ginger kid. I don't have any physical deformity. I'm not a Siamese twin. I generally don't dress particularly wacky or revealing. Truth be told, I'm pretty average looking.

So unless I’m walking around with my face melting off, there’s no excuse for someone I don’t know to grill me for a good 30 seconds as I walk past them. Maybe I’m hideously ugly and no one has ever told me. I guess there's always the possibility that I have an extra head growing out of my neck that I wasn’t previously aware of, but if neither of these is the case, there’s absolutely no reason for me to be generating the menacing glares of so many strangers. It just doesn’t make sense!

I freely admit that I check people out as I’m passing them on the street and certainly I like to people watch while I’m waiting for the subway or riding in a cab, but I NEVER spend more than 5 seconds scoping someone out, and when I do, it’s usually because I’m admiring an outfit or coveting a perfectly groomed mane of hair. Completely innocent.

I will also admit that I've been accused of walking around with a generally nasty and/or mean expression on my face, but I swear, it’s only when I feel I am being glared at that my eyes linger. And if this is the case, I am usually, by that point, giving that particular person one of my signature dirty looks or the stink eye in retaliation.

Needless to say, if I felt that someone was staring at me with admiration, desire, lust, or even jealously, I would walk on by, secretly happy that I had generated such feelings in others, but that scenario just never seems to be the case. It’s always the disapproving look from the middle-aged woman or the death stare from another female twenty-something. Can’t a girl get a break?

Recently, I have developed a new method for handling those who try to bore holes in my head with their eyes – give them a look that’s to say ‘What? Do you have something to say to me? Keep staring at me like that and I’ll rip your head clean off your neck.’ That usually does the job.