The Gauntlet
As many of you know already, I am not the most social of persons. Understatement of the year, some of you are saying. And you'd be right. Which is why the fall is such a trying time for me. Allow me to explain why.
Every morning I turn off the alarm, which has doubtless interrupted a very important dream wherein I must paint the basement of my parents' house with live weasels or something, and then stumble around for a few moments while my brain gear shifts from "weasel/paint" mode to "shower/clothes/work" mode.
Not being a morning person, I am even less inclined to be sociable until around noon, when I've had a chance to settle into the day, the caffeine is kicking in, and I've come to terms with my life once more. But every morning, without fail, as I try to enter the metro station of my choice, I must run the Gauntlet.
The Gauntlet is comprised, most of the year, of newspaper distributors and the occassional special event flyer distributor. That's bad enough. I mean really, if I want a copy of the Express, I can take one off of the large, clearly marked, yellow-emblazoned stack right by the door. I don't need someone to move into my path, lean forward, shout "Express!" in my face and wave a paper in the air. The special event monkeys are both better and worse. They're there less often, but when they are there, and I show no interest in whatever event or product they are hawking, I get the look that seems to say "you are a bad person and will be responsible for the death and destruction of everything because you won't". I really hate that look.
But the real fun starts in the fall, when the political monkeys begin campaigning. Just the other day there were at least twenty political monkeys between me and the escalator, all wanting to give me a flyer or button or tell me about Proposition Number X, or wanting to shake my hand. This is way too much sociability for me to handle at 7:30 in the morning.
The only brightside is when both Democrats and Republicans are there, and you can feel the political tension simmering just under the surface. The furtive glances and competitive shouting are funny, but when they begin competing for each person by leaping, leaping I say, out at a person and throwing flyers at them like ninja stars, that's where I draw the line.
So what is a quiet, polite person supposed to do? I do not know.
Today's fun: Costumes! Now is the time to be thinking about Halloween, or perhaps even Renaissance Faire costumes. This site has the best choices of anyplace I've found, at reasonable prices. I particularly like the V for Vendetta costume myself.
Every morning I turn off the alarm, which has doubtless interrupted a very important dream wherein I must paint the basement of my parents' house with live weasels or something, and then stumble around for a few moments while my brain gear shifts from "weasel/paint" mode to "shower/clothes/work" mode.
Not being a morning person, I am even less inclined to be sociable until around noon, when I've had a chance to settle into the day, the caffeine is kicking in, and I've come to terms with my life once more. But every morning, without fail, as I try to enter the metro station of my choice, I must run the Gauntlet.
The Gauntlet is comprised, most of the year, of newspaper distributors and the occassional special event flyer distributor. That's bad enough. I mean really, if I want a copy of the Express, I can take one off of the large, clearly marked, yellow-emblazoned stack right by the door. I don't need someone to move into my path, lean forward, shout "Express!" in my face and wave a paper in the air. The special event monkeys are both better and worse. They're there less often, but when they are there, and I show no interest in whatever event or product they are hawking, I get the look that seems to say "you are a bad person and will be responsible for the death and destruction of everything because you won't
But the real fun starts in the fall, when the political monkeys begin campaigning. Just the other day there were at least twenty political monkeys between me and the escalator, all wanting to give me a flyer or button or tell me about Proposition Number X, or wanting to shake my hand. This is way too much sociability for me to handle at 7:30 in the morning.
The only brightside is when both Democrats and Republicans are there, and you can feel the political tension simmering just under the surface. The furtive glances and competitive shouting are funny, but when they begin competing for each person by leaping, leaping I say, out at a person and throwing flyers at them like ninja stars, that's where I draw the line.
So what is a quiet, polite person supposed to do? I do not know.
Today's fun: Costumes! Now is the time to be thinking about Halloween, or perhaps even Renaissance Faire costumes. This site has the best choices of anyplace I've found, at reasonable prices. I particularly like the V for Vendetta costume myself.
posted by Fliven | 12:53 PM
2 Comments:
As a quiet and polite person, I have struggled with this issue as well! But, I am accosted so often on the VRE/Metro/streets with flyers, papers, activists, etc., I have had to become that person that a)ignores and walks right past, or b) says "sorry, I'm really busy." Option B definitely if they're one of those "Hi, shake my hand and listen to my spiel about the environment on the street corner!" people. -maryment
During my commute from my previous residence, I was handed the Express every morning by the same cheerful and kind man. He was one of the very few people I felt recognized me in my community, and his personal morning greeting to me was something that I really appreciated.
I must confess that I have no warm feelings toward any of the random event/political monkeys. Or the guy who plays random church hymns or "New York, New York" on a horn (badly) with a CD playing backup behind him.
And my new morning Metro station is so crowded and full that I often walk past the Express guy, since I don't want to wait in line for him (I don't have the chance to pass by any of the handy yellow boxes), and the volume is so much higher at that station he wouldn't recognize me anyway.
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