Unpleasant things
I’ve started work already, on Thursday to be exact. In the last few days, I have somewhat acclimatized to the daily commute. There are a few things that have made my unpleasant list:
- Loud cell phone talkers: I have encounted a few people on public transit that feel the need to let everyone on the bus know exactly what’s going on in their life. The injection of the word “like” in every second word garbles this supposed conversation to the point of unintelligible sound bites. Or perhaps it was the wind whistling out of the stupid twit’s ears, because it really didn’t sound like anyone with half a brain would communicate in such a fashion. No, I really don’t care if your boyfriend didn’t say “I love you” on your two month anniversary. Wait, two month anniversary? What kind of inane celebratory mark is that? Ten bucks says they just had sex earlier than she wanted and she’s trying to find some kind of emotional justification for it.
- Mixed perfumes/colognes: I’m not exactly a big fan of perfumes and colognes. I actively avoid that section if I ever find myself in a department store. Hell, the Body Shop has now somehow managed to offend my sinuses, something that never happened before. However, there’s not much you can do about it when you’re on a packed bus/SkyTrain. Still, people could learn to ease up on the perfume baths. It’s not a substitute for showering. Pheromones? With that terrible mix of Hugo Chanel No. Klein, you’re better off imitating dogs and sniffing each other butts.
- Stupid SkyTrain passengers: The early morning rush brings a rather cramped ride to work. By the time the train hits Broadway, people are lined up two deep in the aisles, there are no seats to be had and the windows are open to relieve the pungent smell of “that guy” who just passed wind. There’s a fair crowd at Broadway Station trying to get on the train to Waterfront, and people squish in pretty tightly in order to not have to wait for the next train to come. Inevitably, there are the impatient ones who underestimate the size of their fat McDonald’s built asses and try to push their way onto the SkyTrain after the nice lady on the PA speakers says “Expo line to…Waterfront.” Of course, this means the SkyTrain doors can’t close, leading to a near endless cycle of that three toned bell until the impatient person gives up and steps away or manages to pop the personal bubble of the poor sap who’s standing next to the door. Oh yeah, then there are the passengers that won’t let the ones on the train EXIT the train before trying to get on. Common sense, where art thou?
- The cost of my monthly pass: I want my UPass back dammit.
- Roadkill: For the most part, I’m pretty indifferent to most things that have gotten run over on the road. Squirrels and raccoons can be cute and all, until you remember the rabies and the food scrounging. And the fact that the beady glowing eyes of the raccoons makes them one of the creepiest mammals on the planet (just below that guy who whispers “Boom boom boom I want you in my room” whilst offering candy to women). So if one gets run over, I’m not too choked up about it. I did see a dead squirrel on the road though, coming home. Check that, an ALMOST dead squirrel. One part of its body was flat, but the tail was stuck straight up…and still twitching. Perhaps it was already dead, and that’s a natural death twitch of some sort. Either way, not the nicest thing to look at.
In terms of work, it has gone pretty well so far. There’s a lunch outing every Friday as part of an office bonding thing, or morale booster, whatever you want to call it. We went to go see an IMAX movie at Canada Place. It was deep sea documentary in 3D so everyone got those 3D glasses. They weren’t the cardboard cutout, red and blue lens ones though. Yeah, I was disappointed too. The film was okay, but every time something came at the screen, my eyes started going cross-eyed and all over the place. That hurt. Perhaps it’s because I could still see the seats in front of me and the picture onscreen still looked 3D and up close, so my eyes and brain were kind of reacting in the “aaaagh, what the fuck are you doing to me??” kind of way.
Tomorrow begins my first Monday to Friday week at work. Which means I get to experience a Monday morning commute, something I haven’t done in 3 years since my last co-op was on campus. At least this one isn’t a 90 minute trip out to fricking Delta.