Tag Archives: cell phone

turned off my headphones twice

Thursday was a great day for eavesdropping on the bus. You didn’t even have to get anywhere near the eaves to drop down from them. People with their conversations approached you, built eaves at an easily mountable height and then proceeded to crouch beneath them and speak loudly.

On my ride to work I sat in front of a guy talking on his cell phone. I tuned in when he mentioned Union Gospel Mission, and how these programs take time to work and if he’d stop taking the drugs now he’d go into withdrawal so he needed the drugs by the end of the day. “I don’t think you understand!” he kind of shouted into his phone, before signing off with a “Go fuck yourself.” Then he calls someone else and explains loudly to her that he’d just talked to his doctor and the doctor won’t prescribe enough pain pills for him because of his insurance, and he’s explaining about when his year of meds began and when it ends and why he needs the drugs now and how he was in detox and didn’t ask anyone to pay for that. Then he gets huffier and says “You know, on December 27th I was so sick of dealing with insurance and the WCB (Workers Compensation Board) and the pain and everything I took thirty pills and tried to die! So now the doctor won’t prescribe more than a week’s worth at a time and you won’t pay for it…” This was when he got off the bus.

And then on my way home from work a guy got on the bus and was having a good ol’ chat with the bus driver, in a voice that carried to the back. As he wove his way back there some person, emboldened by this guy’s loudness I guess, asked if loud guy knew the score of the hockey game. Loud guy did and this started the entire back half of the bus in on a furball of a conversation about playoff hockey and the Habs and Ovechkin and 1993. It was like the bus had turned into a sports bar with all these strangers just going on about their common interests. Sparked by a loud guy talking to a bus driver.

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no presents please and thank you

I’ve been trying to tell people more individually but you do not need to buy me Xmas presents this year. I’m not buying anything for anyone. It’s not a poverty thing or a political thing, I just don’t want any reason to deal with stores and commercialized stuff this year. And if I can shorten anyone else’s time in the mall, that’s a pretty good deal too.

A couple of weeks ago I was wandering through St. Vital Centre and passed a cell phone crap kiosk. You know, the kind of place that just sells bits of plastic to encase your phone or attach it to dashboards or whatever? I’d already decided to do this no-gifts Xmas thing, but there were a few wafflings in my head sort of like “Well, maybe I should just get this person this one thing…” And then there was this kiosk. And it had a poster with a bunch of smartphones on it and the text, “You know you love her. Now prove it.” I just hated the fact that message existed and wanted to cry and puke all at once. I took it as confirmation in this year’s buy-nothing ways.

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failure and justification

I am wearing new pants because I failed at Buy Nothing Day. But they’re pants in a whole weird direction for me so that’s something. And I think I am conscious enough of my habits of consumption that BND isn’t necessarily for me.

Yesterday was the only day my mom and I could get together to go Xmas shopping for Sri’s son. I had to go along because I’m about the same size as him and would thus make a practical tryer-onner of clothes. It only took an hour so that was pretty good. And because so many of the shops were having “buy one get one 50% off” sales I got a pair of pants out of it. Not just pants like the kind I wear all the time, but jeans. It’s been ten years since I wore jeans. And even then it was mandatory as part of the Westgate choir casual uniform. I figured I’d be able to take this step backwards because I have slowed down in always having a book in the cargo pockets of my pants. You can blame the cell phone for that, since it’s got a whole shwack of books on it. And I wear sweaters with pockets. And I carry a bag around more often than I ever used to. So the necessity of cargo pants isn’t quite there any more. And a different colour of leg accoutrements didn’t seem that unreasonable.

You can tell I’m self-justifying here by my many sentences starting with And. I’m building up a wall. One sentence after another to hide behind. You probably don’t care. There’s nothing to hide about. But sometimes a cat just has to bury his new clothes in the backyard.

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