Urban designers

I had to lead a meeting at work today with a group of urban designers. For most of the meeting, I had no idea what they were talking about, but they would talk and I had to respond and I had no idea what I was talking about. I guess they knew what they were talking about. If they did not, I guess we would probably be speaking the same language. The language of people who cannot be understood.

But that is how it is at work. One has to pretend to be something one is not for 8 hours straight. No wonder why I am tired all of the time. And easily irritated these days. I get extremely irritated walking in public spaces directly behind people who are staring at their cellphones instead of their surroundings, wavering from 1 side of the sidewalk to the other. And they’re not even aware of it.

And then there’s the knee, which is getting worse. It’s painful to even put weight on it. Today I was on the train and of course no one offers to give up their seat to someone wearing a knee brace. I was standing above this woman and I guess my brace accident grazed her leg. And she actually pushed my leg away. I was repulsed and revulsed and all of the hateful I could say ran through my head. But I did my best to talk myself out of it. Telling myself I will most likely never be in this woman’s presence again. I certainly hope so. Perhaps she feels the same.

And there’s this woman at work who rides the same train as myself and I always see her when I get off the train and on the walk from the station to the office. But most of the time she doesn’t see me because she is out walking with her cellphone, or I guess she is walking her cellphone. Taking her cellphone for a walk. I want to tap her on the shoulder and ask what’s happening in there… inside her cellphone? What is happening in there that is not happening out here? It must be something really important, but she is walking so lackadaisically that I it doesn’t seem important at all. I can’t figure it out. She isn’t texting. And she isn’t talking. I guess she must be reading. She has this muted smile on her face, so it’s really hard to tell. And then I am not aware of people who are walking around me because I am so transfixed on watching her walk unaware of me.

Maybe I would be less irritated if there was a lane exclusively for cellphone walkers, And they would get ticketed if they crossed the line. Or zapped if there was an electric fence between the lanes. They would have to pay fines the first 2 times they were caught. The 3rd time their cellphones would be confiscated until they passed the Pedestrian Test. If they couldn’t pass the test, they would either be shamed or deported. The worst offenders would be both.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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