The Most Wonderful Convo

It’s the Most Wonderful Time…

My ass.

My commute to work this morning was decidedly more unpleasant with the increase in students on the subway.

That sounds so negative, doesn’t it?

I suppose I should ensure that my barbs go out to those who rightfully deserve it, so let me clear up who I am talking about, first.

You two. Yes, I’m talking to you. The gals with the earth-toned clothing and conservative haircuts. You two are standing as far from the doors as possible, safely out of the way of people trying to exit or board the train. You are a-ok in my books.

Let’s move on to you, the guy with the t-shirt, loose cardigan, shorty-short-short jean shorts, faux-suede winterboots with the black hockey socks pulled up to your mid thigh? You’re sitting unobtrusively, listening to your I-pod. You’re safe.

And you guys & gals in the skater/grunge/lumberjack clothing. You’re having a quiet conversation off to the side as well. You are good in my books.

It’s you. That’s right. You two standing in the doorway. The doorway that is on the side of the subway that people are entering and exiting for the next eight stops. Canoodling away and pretending you don’t exist when the doors open. You are in the way! Move your damned asses.

Not to mention you guys. The gang whose level of conversation approach rock concert decibel levels. I don’t need to know the details of your parents house. Especially since I’m all the way on the other end of the subway car. I don’t envy that poor old couple sitting beside you. I can see them putting their hearing aids away and shoving cotton into their ear canals.

What happened?

Were we like this, as children? Us? Generation X? Because Generation Why certainly is.

If things don’t start getting better, I’m going to be eating a whole lot of kidney and lima beans for breakfast before I go to work.

At least I know for sure that I would have my very own subway car.

Convo? It’s Been a While!

When writing the above rant, I couldn’t remember what our generation’s name was. So I called up Dave

Jorge: Dude. What Generation are we?
Dave: What?
J: What is our Generation called?
D: Generation…mmmmmehh….X?
J: Really? Generation X?
D: I think so. Don’t you feel Generation EXY?
J: I don’t know about Generation EXY but I sure feel Generation Sexy!
D: Blog it.

After that little exchange, I told Dave the premise of my entry, describing some of the stuff I see on the subway…

J: So what do you think?
D: I think that you should be called Generation Grumpy Old Man.

Maybe he’s right…