The other day I was taking the LINK to the airport. Seattle's newest piece of mass transit is smooth and quiet; an all around nice piece to ride. But as with any form of mass transit, the system does not protect against annoying passengers. Minding my own business, I find myself enjoying the tranquility which is so regularly absent when it is dramatically interrupted by fervent gesticulation. Upon making eye contact with the mime I conclude that this person annoys me for no particular reason. I speculate that if I were to hear this person speak he would comprehensively annoy the shit out of me. No sooner has this thought arrived then speculation becomes reality. He and the girl he is sitting with decide to get up and sit directly behind me. As he passes me his striking resemblance to Macaulay Culkin only inflames my annoyance beyond an uncontrollable level. A mole, quite possibly a minor character in an Austin Powers movie, smugly lits above the left side of his upper lip. Moley, moley, moley, moley, moley! He is dressed in an European overcoat and dark jeans; carrying a black umbrella. His thick greasy obsidian hair is pulled back in a slick pony tail; peach fuzz lightly stenciled on his lip. He plunks down behind me with an emphatic labored plop. Trapped between stations I am now forced to endure his moronic babble and arrogant pontifications on the meaning of life. A horribly fake British accent feebly lends validity to this ruse. He converses with a homeless man behind me, the sordid prattle intoxicating my intellect. "Good eating is Shelter grape jelly...or Spamwhiches with Velveeta and wrestling." As if just as annoyed by this lad as I am, the LINK comes to a celebratory stop and my Macaulay musing can finally abate.
15 March 2010
My Morbid Macaulay Moment
The other day I was taking the LINK to the airport. Seattle's newest piece of mass transit is smooth and quiet; an all around nice piece to ride. But as with any form of mass transit, the system does not protect against annoying passengers. Minding my own business, I find myself enjoying the tranquility which is so regularly absent when it is dramatically interrupted by fervent gesticulation. Upon making eye contact with the mime I conclude that this person annoys me for no particular reason. I speculate that if I were to hear this person speak he would comprehensively annoy the shit out of me. No sooner has this thought arrived then speculation becomes reality. He and the girl he is sitting with decide to get up and sit directly behind me. As he passes me his striking resemblance to Macaulay Culkin only inflames my annoyance beyond an uncontrollable level. A mole, quite possibly a minor character in an Austin Powers movie, smugly lits above the left side of his upper lip. Moley, moley, moley, moley, moley! He is dressed in an European overcoat and dark jeans; carrying a black umbrella. His thick greasy obsidian hair is pulled back in a slick pony tail; peach fuzz lightly stenciled on his lip. He plunks down behind me with an emphatic labored plop. Trapped between stations I am now forced to endure his moronic babble and arrogant pontifications on the meaning of life. A horribly fake British accent feebly lends validity to this ruse. He converses with a homeless man behind me, the sordid prattle intoxicating my intellect. "Good eating is Shelter grape jelly...or Spamwhiches with Velveeta and wrestling." As if just as annoyed by this lad as I am, the LINK comes to a celebratory stop and my Macaulay musing can finally abate.
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