Twice in the last week I've been getting off the elevator on the first floor of my building and someone else (not the same person though) has tried to get on the elevator while I was getting out. Like, simultaneously squeezing through the door. Both times I fought back -- right of way, motherfucker! -- but both times also the person was so insistent. It was like a turf war. This morning the woman kept saying "sorry! sorry!" and then just trying to push past me more. I mean, why would you try to get on an elevator right when someone else is trying to get off? Have you never been on an elevator before? Who are you??? It makes me nostalgic for London, where "accidental" passerby violence against stupid pedestrians seems way more acceptable than it is here in the Poinciana.
I'm reading The Things They Carried for a class and I'm so not into it. Yeah yeah, it doesn't have to be true to be true, bla bla, trauma, communal memory, what's new? I get it. Plus, Vietnam is such a bummer.
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2 comments:
Yeah, can people just stop mourning their traumas and just be melancholy for awhile and then get on with things already?
Wait, are you making fun of me? It's not that I don't like trauma, it just gets a little repetitive after six weeks... reading about it I mean!
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