Move it, Zebra Ass!

I learned something about humanity this morning. Apparently people don't like it when you mutter under your breath, OK, maybe it was a bit louder than under my breath. Let me start over. People don't like it when you tell them, "Move it, Zebra Ass!" as you shove past them so as to not get run over by a bus.

This was not my fault. Zebra Ass was a heavy set woman who happened to be wearing a zebra print skirt designed for a slightly less heavy set woman. As she waddled to her destination she could not be bothered to pry her eyes off of her nook or iPad or whatever device she had that she shouldn't have been reading when walking down one of the busiest damn streets in America. From a half block away I could tell that she was going to be trouble, as could the rest of my wolfpack of commuters. I was just a split second late trying to move into a passing lane and I got stuck behind Zebra Ass.

Every day I encounter 4 or 5 people just like Zebra Ass and it is enough to drive me insane. I don't know how this happened to me but somehow I have ended up with a, gasp, job. A job that, double gasp, requires me to go to an office. An office, TRIPLE GASP, located in the financial district of New York City. I'm still utterly confused as to what exactly transpired to make this happen; last thing I remember I was stocking the "Bacchus" section at Nationwide with a tallboy of Old Style under the counter and Avail on the speakers. Now I work in the same building as Fitch Ratings. It's weird.

What's super rad though is that my commute has given me so many new kinds of people to hate. Enjoy!

After Work Sprinters: These guys only exist during my commute home. As we head to the PATH station at World Trade in a nice orderly group there is always some asshole who has to be weaving in between people, running into people and generally acting like if they don't make it onto the train right now all of the first born sons in America will drop dead. Here's the thing, the trains come every five minutes. When you miss the train you just sigh, take your turn in Words with Friends and, oh what's that? The next train is already here. There is no reason to run and act like a total ass. The only guy worse than this is the one who moves at the same super quick speed but is speed walking. It's pretentious.

Phone Addicts: Every morning I am shocked by the sheer volume of people who pull their phones out immediately after getting off of the train. The only thing more shocking is that half of these morons are so enthralled by their phones that they just stand still like their feet are stuck in the concrete. I run up the back of one of these people at least once a day. It's enough to make me think that people might need to evolve some form of brake light if we are expected to survive. Here's the really galling thing about these people, who is calling or texting at 8:15 on a Thursday? Not a single one of those calls can be even remotely important.

Slow Ricky Bobby: I have no idea why I couldn't think of a real nascar driver for this one so Ricky Bobby will have to do. These are the people who walk like they are guarding the lead in the last lap and they are already out of gas. They move insanely slowly but any time you try to pass they swoop down to block your way. They deserve to be actually run over.

Hooker Shoes: I had heard jokes about this before but I finally experienced it last week: I got to watch a very attractive woman dressed in clothes barely appropriate outside of the Diamond Club get her 3-inch heel stuck in a grate. It was hilarious. I actually didn't hate this at all. Heehee.

Tourists: I know that everyone in the world complains about the tourists in their city. I don't mind the tourists, hell, for the most part I like them more than the locals, at least none of them are Yankee fans. What I hate is that their favorite activity is standing the middle of the sidewalk 5 abreast while one of them looks at a map of the wrong city. If you are lost there are two acceptable things to do. 1. Keep going in the direction you were going and hope that maybe the world is like Dark City and your destination will eventually move so that it is in front of you. 2. Get the hell out of the way before looking at the map.

The Sandra Bullock: This one might confuse you because more often than not the Sandra Bullock is a man. I have nicknamed these as the guy who absolutely refuses to stop, kinda like the bus in Speed. These are the people that when cars are crossing the street he will walk out past everyone stopped on the corner and then maybe start walking up the street a little just so he doesn't have to come to a complete stop. These guys are morons and should be run over by steamrollers and then stomped on by the USC marching band playing "Louie Louie." (I can't believe that clip from Naked Gun isn't on YouTube, way to fail, America.)

Occupy Wall Street Urchins: Ugh. So, I walk past Trinity Church on my way to work. For those of you not in New York this is where the last dregs of Occupy Wall Street are hanging out. I hate these people so very much. I had the misfortune of walking past as one of them decided to air out their dreads as they hit me in the mouth with one of them. Politically we're on the same page.  Here's the difference between me and them; I understand that sleeping on the sidewalk next to a sign explaining why the banks are bad isn't going to change a single, solitary thing. Maybe when the movement was in full swing it brought a little bit of attention to issues the media might have otherwise ignored, but two years later all they are doing is pissing me off when I'm on my way to work. It's so stupid. Believe it or not no major change has ever come from doing nothing.

That's about it. Those are the brand new people that I hate in my new life of commuting. It's exciting. It's like Christmas every day. When I head back to work tomorrow I'm sure I'll find at least two new kinds of people to hate. Hooray!

Just like your favorite cold sore I have returned

Hey blog. April 17th was a long ass time ago. I can't believe that I have been neglectful of my pretty little blog for that long. I am the worst. Just a super quick life update and explanation then we'll move on to the hate in the next post.

Since April-ish I've been working a full-time big boy writing job. I write about politics for a lil' website called hngn.com. Actually, I have ended up writing about a heck of a lot more than just politics since I've been there. In the last week I have written about Star Wars, MLB Trade Rumors, a decapitated soccer ref, Jodi Arias having phone sex, the Texas abortion bill and Obama's love of broccoli. It's pretty fun and I actually like my job. I REALLY like my paycheck.

The bad thing about my job is that I'm spending 8+ hours a day sitting at a computer writing. When I come home I usually don't want to go right back to the computer to write a blog post even though I am often filled with rage. I normally just sit in my chair, watch Lizard Lick Towing and fall asleep with a Diet Dr. Pepper balanced precariously on my lap. I am a catch.

The point is that I have been missing my blog and I have been thinking a lot about stuff to write and always failing to do so. No more excuses, my damn fingers can deal with typing just a little bit more each day. Unless I get carpal tunnel. Then I'll get worker's comp. . . hello easy street! Just kidding, I have way more dignity than to ever say I had carpal tunnel. That's a made up illness, just like gluten allergies and Asperger's.

So, if you've made you've decided to join me back on the blog, mazel tov.