Friday, March 06, 2009

Observational Stopwatch, or, Hey, Let's All Pretend I Wrote a Real Post Today

My mornings are all the same. Get up, slam a fistful of Zyrtec (I am allergic to all known vegetation), flip on the Frankenkitchen, shower, dress, name my ensemble, spackle on some Clinique, toss in a few spritzes of perfume, roll out.

(Yes, I really do name my outfits. Today is, “Woodstock Xanadu,” yesterday was, “A Scarf Turns H&M Into Prada,” Wednesday was “Doctor Who Dominatrix.”)

I have a whole Observational Stopwatch system that tells me if I’m going to be late for work. If I’m on the elevator with the Milk Slurp Twins, I’m early. If I’m on with the Overly Friendly Howdy There, Lady Neighbor, I’m late.

My walk to the Metro has another stopwatch: Fleece With a Tie Guy. He got this name because, not surprisingly, he wears a fleece over his shirt and tie. I don’t know why I find it so distressing. First off, I have very, very few opinions on male fashion (manties, man-thongs and mandals: kill me now; well-made suit: hot). Second, it’s a rather nice fleece.

If I run into him within a block of the Metro, I'm on time. But I usually have to stop and ponder as to why he doesn’t own a proper overcoat. And that always makes me a minute or two late for work. Someday, in the pursuit of punctuality, I’ll stop and ask him. “Excuse me, sir, why don’t you have an overcoat? Did your wife not buy you one?” Oh, hell, then he’ll think I’m hitting on him. How do you ask someone why they don’t have a fairly mainstream article of clothing?

Today was a little different, though. I was late because I saw a man pushing an empty stroller around, and I kept wondering if I should ask if he forgot his baby. How do you ask about that? “Does your wife have the baby?” Oh, hell, then he’ll think I’m hitting on him too, and my commute will be wall-to-wall sexual harassment lawsuits.

Lastly, I’m sad that my new job doesn’t entail the Homeless Fashion Police or One-Legged Pigeon of yesteryear. But I guess Fleece With a Tie Guy and Empty Stroller Daddy will have to do.

In the comments, tell me what you saw on your way to work today. Or tell me about those random people in the red coats who meet in Farragut Square every morning...they're kinda creepy.

11 comments:

Anonymous said...

I have the same kind of indications that I’m running late/early in the morning, too! So funny. There’s this one guy I tend to pass every day as I walk to the Metro, and I can always tell if I’ve left the house earlier/later than usual depending on where I rendezvous with him. :)

Shannon said...

Zandria - Sometimes, I want to stop people along my route and ask, "Hey, are you running late, or am I running late?"

Anonymous said...

My two indicators that I'm right on time: little bald man who pushes everyone out of the way to get onto the Grosvenor train first, dammit, and Mullet Lady, a woman who apparently has the same haircut as my fiance's seventh grade shop teacher (ca. 1987). I was running late today so I didn't see them. My weekend is now shot. ;)

Shannon said...

WordNerd - My seventh grade shop teacher wasn't married. Instead, he had an anatomically correct Dolly Parton trash can.

Jamie said...

I was hung over. I barely remember the walk and don't remember changing trains. I think there was a really hot girl on the platform at Fort Totten though. Oh wait, I guess I do remember changing trains.

Anonymous said...

Normally, I know I'm late two ways: If the Express guy is gone in front of Cheverly (That's a bad sign, as he vaporizes right before 9). And if the Orange line is pretty empty all the way through Metro Center. That's a REALLY bad sign.

Shannon said...

Jamie - I was nowhere near Fort Totten this morning!

...hey, has anybody seen my humility? Sure I left it around here someplace...

bh - I have that one too! If the Examiner guy manages to give away all his papers, then I must REALLY be screwed.

Anonymous said...

Hey! That's my Halloween costume. Hot!

Shannon said...

K - Actually, that's YOU.

rachaelgking said...

The stoplights are usually my best indicator of being on time... if I hit K Street right, I hardly have to stop at all. There's also a guy who plays the trumpet in the square right in front of my building, and has a set playlist. During the holiday season, I knew if he was playing "Silent Night" already, I'd better hustle.

Tina said...

rural stopwatches are sooo dull man. I watch for the school zone lights - flashing - late - not flashing early or school holiday.