So if you’ve been reading my posts (few and far between, yes Dana, I’m sorry), you’ll know I was debating an iPod. In the end, I caved, and I even kept the white headphones. However, I did avoid getting that clear skeleton that protects your machine from droppery (a $329 piece of machinery, and you think I’m going to drop it?) – instead, I got this cute red leather casing thing that has a T-Rex on it. Rawr. But I digress.
I actually meant to write about how strange it is, being on this side of the wall. I spend the AM on the A train, trying not to burst into dance (what can i say, Ellen + those iPod commercials got it right – I put in the aforementioned headphones and I’m all Gene Kelly with the, “Gotta Dance!”), while simultaneously observing all the other people on my train, in my car, trying not to burst into dance. The white headphones are all over the car – they’re like that fish that early Christians used to draw in the sand; yes, I iPod, do you iPod too?
Its kind of the same thing with cigarettes; some coworkers have gotten me in the habit of a ciggy break (or two) during the day and while we’re out there, we see various and sundry members of our building hanging out under the scaffolding, puffing away. Not that we talk to them – its enough that they’re there, we see them, and we all realize that we’re being socially unacceptable, together.