Scene and heard

Maybe I’ve been unlucky recently. Maybe I had been lucky previously. Either way, a number of people I have held the door open for of late, have not acknowledged this in any way – not even a nod. I’m not talking about the young shits for whom common decency would be considered uncool (but who get terribly upset to the point of threatening violence when they feel they have not been shown respect – I saw many of these in my bus driving days). These are adult males.

My Uncle Norman used to say to such people: “Are you coming back?” The inference, which I verbalised on a number of occasions over the years was, ‘I’ll try to make sure I’m here holding the door for you when you do get back’. My preferred remark, which I have dusted off and used at least 3 times in the last couple of weeks, is: “Thank you! It was an honour!” I don’t think too many people get it, wrapped up in their own little worlds as they are, and they continue as if nothing has been said – or at least heard. A number of years ago, a man responded that he had said thank you. “Oh yes? Without moving your lips or making a sound?” Perhaps it is my old world Englishness, but I really have no tolerance for poor manners.

I have yet to work in an office building that got the temperatures right. In the Summer, some offices are so cold, people cover up the vents (until building services come along and uncover them). At the job I had during the Summer of 2005, building services insisted that all window blinds be drawn as these were “a part of the integrated “ blah blah blah.

Where I am now is rather like just about every other office building (and my apartment). When the weather is cold, they crank the heating up so high, that you either open up a window or, if you are in the more modern buildings where windows are ornamental rather than functional, you strip down to a level that retains your decency and doesn’t fall foul of company dress code policies and then spend the afternoons fighting to retain consciousness. But on days like last Monday, when the temperature hit 63 degrees Fahrenheit, off goes the heat and everyone is too cold.

Nowhere here is as ridiculous as where I worked in New Orleans in the Summer of 1985. The AC was up so high that I needed to wear a sweater in the afternoons. Meanwhile, outside it was in the mid 90’s in both temperature and humidity. What I call my most futile lunch break ever, was the day after I had taken home my sweater (the only one I had unpacked) to wash it and forgotten to bring it back. I followed my normal morning ritual: a slow walk through the French Quarter wearing a T-shirt; closing my office door; taking off the T-shirt I walked in wearing and using it as a towel, then putting on my business shirt. That lunch break consisted of ambling home in as leisurely a manner as I could; grabbing my sweater and some food, then ambling back. For all my dawdling, I nevertheless arrived in my office entirely drenched with sweat; my clothes sticking to my skin. Within half an hour, I was dry, shivering and reaching for my sweater.

I went to Arthur's Tavern in Hoboken with Susan and my Son, Sean. I was very disappointed in more ways than one. To be sure, their meats are decent. But I’m one of the majority who likes potato with my steaks and burgers, and Arthur’s potatoes are dreadful! Soggy on the outside and firm on the inside. Most unpleasant! The staff there are incredulous if you complain about them, stating that everyone else likes them, but I know this isn’t actually the case. I emailed them after I went, saying it is a pity that the only choice is those potatoes or none at all. Why not offer fries and baked? That they didn’t respond, was the biggest disappointment of all. While you will never please everyone, I am used to businesses caring about what their customers think. Arthur’s do not care. Therefore, I will not go back!

I’m having some people over tomorrow for Buffalo Wings, English Chips, Veggies and Dip, Pico de Gallo and Guacamole – all home prepared. I needed to buy a lot of stuff today. I packed the few things I bought at Trader Joe’s into my travel bag then went into the nearby competition – Whole Foods. They are way more expensive, but also have a much better selection – more’s the pity! I had written out a lengthy shopping list, then left it at work. Very helpful there!!!

I was so overloaded with bags that I needed to swipe my Metrocard, then pick up my shopping bags and proceed through the turnstile towards the subway platform. Not caring or thinking, a man was about to exit the turnstile I was entering through. “No, no! I just swiped my card through!” (Does anyone know if I would have lost my money if he had come the other way?) As he exited through the next turnstile, he called me an asshole, while picking up speed away from me. Big, brave man!! Big fucking mouth without the brain or balls to back it up!

One of the items on my list was salt. I was in Whole Foods, so I might as well get the Sea Salt. There’s the store brand for a dollar something, and ‘organic sea salt’ for almost $4. Organic Sea Salt? Does that come from the Organic Sea? I didn’t learn about that one in school. Perhaps bought by the same people who shop at Pottery Barn – the ‘if it’s expensive, it must be good’ crowd?