Who are those strange people who sit in parked cars at two o’clock in the afternoon staring into space? Why do they gawk at me when I walk down the street rambling to myself, trying to prepare the necessary phrases to use in basic human interaction?
Case in point. On Tuesday, I walked up the leafy suburb to cash a cheque. As I walked, muttering ‘can I cash this please’ or ‘could I cash this please’ or ‘could this be cashed, please’ I saw at least THREE passengers staring out at me. Who are they waiting for? Are they sitting there hoping someone might climb into the driver’s seat and drive them? Why do they always see me when I’m trying to be privately weird?
Let me tell you, being weird in this climate of prudence and common sense is not easy. Sometimes I want to sing along to pop songs packed into buses tight with silence. Sometimes I want to debate with myself the tone of voice someone used when speaking to me, and the implications of this tone on our relations. The only thing stopping me is the thin line between sanity and craziness, a line I am happy to straddle without medication.
I am also annoyed by cars pulling up beside me. Yesterday, walking a mile-long street, three separate cars pulled up next to me as I strode. For paranoid maniacs like me, there’s fear of being kidnapped. If I were a girl, I’d imagine the fear would be even worse. This abuse has to stop, like my interest in this post has stopped.
Thanks.
Case in point. On Tuesday, I walked up the leafy suburb to cash a cheque. As I walked, muttering ‘can I cash this please’ or ‘could I cash this please’ or ‘could this be cashed, please’ I saw at least THREE passengers staring out at me. Who are they waiting for? Are they sitting there hoping someone might climb into the driver’s seat and drive them? Why do they always see me when I’m trying to be privately weird?
Let me tell you, being weird in this climate of prudence and common sense is not easy. Sometimes I want to sing along to pop songs packed into buses tight with silence. Sometimes I want to debate with myself the tone of voice someone used when speaking to me, and the implications of this tone on our relations. The only thing stopping me is the thin line between sanity and craziness, a line I am happy to straddle without medication.
I am also annoyed by cars pulling up beside me. Yesterday, walking a mile-long street, three separate cars pulled up next to me as I strode. For paranoid maniacs like me, there’s fear of being kidnapped. If I were a girl, I’d imagine the fear would be even worse. This abuse has to stop, like my interest in this post has stopped.
Thanks.
I would kidnap you if I could so you're right to be wary.
ReplyDeleteB
*gulps*
ReplyDeleteYou're not weird. You're just struggling to confine yourself to the very narrow range of acceptable behaviour. In other cultures people might think nothing of you singing your head off in a crowded bus, just as on said bus you might be standing alongside a goat. In some societies, when you board a bus, it's automatic to go and sit beside someone. If you do that here, people feel they're being crowded, or there's something wrong with you. We should challenge these limitations of what's 'normal'.
ReplyDelete^^ Indeed. We're still very reserved and suspicious here. I want to challenge the status quo, but I could use back-up. Let's storm the buses!
ReplyDeleteI've given in to my madness. It is the only way to stay sane--then again, I live in a place reality never comes, so it isn't so dangerous to be strange.
ReplyDeleteI'm happy to serve back-up for challenging the status quo--in fact I'm pretty sure I'm on the front lines...
I talk to myself too. It's not necessarily a bad thing. Mostly I do it because other people don't listen to me, and because this way I always understand what I'm talking about.
ReplyDeleteHart: Charge!
ReplyDeleteLooney: Ha! Very wise.