pants are over rated
Posted on May 9, 2007
Filed Under snark, education, advice |
Today’s blather will include a few words of advice…
Do not attempt to drive to Brooklyn using a set of directions printed off Google maps without vetting the route with someone who has actually MADE the drive, alone, with a cold, while fleeing two children and their fevers, because just when you’re supposed to exit 95 and find the Hutchinson Parkway which should lead you to the Long Island Expressway which will necessarily loop you in to the Brooklyn/Queens Expressway, the folks over at Google will have so royally FUCKED up the route and the exits and the whole damn process that you’ll find yourself heading North (away from The City) in rush hour traffic on a Friday which is, decidedly, a pre-vacation buzz kill.
Do not exit in Darien and ask the 40-something Jerry Garcia look alike who owns the liquor store at exit 9 how to get to Brooklyn because he will look at you as if you’d just ask for driving directions to Bangladesh . And then, rather than say, I’ve never been to Brooklyn even though it’s only 20 miles south of here, he’ll point vaguely to the horizon and say, “Just keep going that-away, it’s somewhere down there.” Ending with a “Happy Trails” and a “It’s all good.”
Do not try to make witty commentary with the gas station attendant in North Haven, Connecticut about the evident cognitive dissidence that must plague the place given the long stretch of ball caps in the window (Red Sox hats and Yankees hats alternating across the front of the store), unless you absolutely want to talk baseball for 30 minutes with said attendant while he reviews each team’s performance both this year and over the course of the past decade. And especially don’t make baseball small talk if the last baseball game you can remember attending ends kind of vaguely given the amount of beer you drank as antidote to the most boring three hours of your life.
Do not decide after a night out drinking that you need a take-out cheeseburger because, at 1:30 in the morning, a person who has had five too many cocktails can put away a serious amount of diner food while watching Animal House on cable and “Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life.”
Do not take Tylenol PM and expect to string together a coherent sentence much before noon the following day because that stuff will throw you for a very serious narcotic loop especially if you’re getting soft in your old age. (Whoopee, fun with cold medicine!) Never mind that you’ll drag the trash cans to the curb early the next morning slightly under dressed for public consumption. Pants? Who needs pants? Pants are overrated.
Do not spread mulch with your bare hands after having your annual manicure while in NYC and expect there to be salvageable remains.
Do not pick up the ‘dead’ duck by the side of the garage with a shovel unless you’re pretty sure it’s dead and not just sleeping the sleep that precedes death because a duck on death’s door is vicious with desperation and the end of days.
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All helpful, if rather specific, advice. Especially regarding the duck.
My son headed off to high school a couple of weeks ago, matter-of-factly announcing that today was “No Pants Day!” A friend of his made it to third period before someone suggested he needed something more than boxer shorts.
P.S. Thanks for the tip about the duck. I’m now wondering if I shouldn’t create a folder in which I can begin collecting duck tips.
What did you do with the duck after you picked it up with the shovel?! On second thought, perhaps I don’t want to know. If that ever happens to me, I will be emailing you.
Duck’s still there. And, judging by the smell, is now officially dead. Will be bagged and canned today as my kids are now poking it with sticks.
Look at all that fugly graffiti! I’d like to see people that destroy public property strung up.