TRANSLATION*
TRANSLATION*
Dear Times Square Tourists,
I know when I say “Sorry, Excuse Me,” my voice sounds friendly and pleasant. I know I am usually smiling.
However, let me be very clear: “Sorry, Excuse Me,” means — “Get the hell out of my way. Now. Idiots.”
If you want to crane your necks to see the shiny neon signs and fake steam oozing off the Cup of Noodles sign or catch a glimpse of the latest tween icon basking in their fifteen minutes at the TRL studios, fine, great, terrific. Just don’t do it in the middle of the block. Move to the side or against a store front. Or in the middle of the street (it’s Times Square, traffic never moves anyway.)
But if you see me walking briskly down the street, about to make it to work on time for the first time in a long while, and I say “sorry, excuse me” and you don’t move within seconds, don’t look around all confused when I step on your heels or elbow you in the ribs.
You have been warned.
* Message brought to you from a woman who has not watched TV in 34 hours.
June 9th, 2004 at 7:43 pm
now all you need to do is take all the pictures off you walls.
A bare mind with bare walls to stare at.
You might go crazy, and as long as you were able to work you way back to the sane world, i might be an intresting trip.
June 10th, 2004 at 1:43 am
Reminds me of the car (Mazda?) commercial where the traffic jams part like the Red Sea to let the car through.
June 10th, 2004 at 1:44 am
Oh, that’s right. You’re not watching any TV.
Nevermind.
December 3rd, 2007 at 4:54 pm
[...] It has been 75 hours and thirty four minutes since my last television watching. I watched last week’s episode of House. Yesterday was the first day I was actually tempted to watch…I think I missed Desperate Housewives, but maybe not. It has been a couple of years since I tried to go any amount of time without television. I was re-reading posts from those days and boy was I angry. All the time. Not scary angry, funny angry, as in kill you with a pick ax, but laugh while I do it angry. Hmm…okay, that might be a little scary. I was going to write something about how I’m not that angry these days, but no, actually I’m pretty angry. And can someone tell me why New York City refuses to allow me to drive a car in Midtown. Or why Karol insists on waking me up nine times before 10 a.m.? And how come you can tell right away if a thing is good, but if takes a while to know if a thing is bad and if you decide it is well, all the more sucky for spending extra time with it? Oh and why am I Karol’s pie delivery service? Or why no matter how tactfully put, you just can’t utter the phrase “I don’t care,” without offending people. Good thing I no longer care about offending people. Why? Because people suck. 28 days to go. I need a No Television tag. [...]