Monday, May 17, 2010

Anger Management

Warning: I'm about to become the world’s biggest hypocrite. If you’ve read my blog before, perhaps you might suggest that I rename it “The Angry Commuter.” And I won’t attempt to deny that people irk me on a daily basis and that yes, it makes me angry. But today I witnessed an outburst on the train that made me question our extreme level of uptightness. Yes, my friends. I'm now defending the “annoying commuter.”

I was sitting quietly, editing a snoozefest medical paper, only mildly annoyed at the guy sitting next to me who smelled like a stomach turning mix of coffee and rotten cheesedoodles. Suddenly an irritating voice broke the silence as a young girl in front of me began talking on her cell to who seemed to be her headhunter about a job interview. Within 15 minutes, I knew her life story: she was a bartender and a temp, had a job she just accepted out of desperation, but really wanted a potential new job in advertising and was hoping for a salary “above 30.” Should she wear a “full suit” (as opposed to half?) or something more casual to the interview? Should she tell the job she just accepted that she had another interview? Should she tell Jessica? No, but really, like, should she tell Jessica?

As I sat sighing loudly with passive aggressive angst, thinking to myself “shut the helladeria up,” someone suddenly did it for me. A man actually leapt out of his chair across from us and shouted “Shut the Fuck Up Already!” The girl immediately lowered her voice, but continued to talk for the rest of the train ride, while the angry man across from us slid down into his seat, red faced and shaking, wiping a froth of saliva from his mouth.

At first I thought, thank the holy heavens someone else said it. But then I started to feel bad for the annoying talker (this is where I become a raging hypocrite). Is it really so bad to talk on the phone for a few minutes? Especially when it's a necessary call like one from a headhunter? Why are New Yorkers so angry about cell phone use? I mean, yes, it’s annoying when one has to overhear inane conversations from a teenager bragging about how wasted he got last night or a husband snapping at his wife that she was the last one to hold the freiken keys so she’d better find them. But is it a reason to jump up and curse and froth like a rabid dog? Should there not be some kind of intermediate action taken, i.e., “Hey, do you mind keeping it down please?”

When I lived in Barcelona, the train going to the city was an assault on all of the senses. When the doors opened, people would literally fall out because it was so jam packed. If you were brave enough to squeeze in, you’d encounter people talking to each other animatedly; kids swinging from the rafters; dueling ring tones clashing with each other; people chatting on their phones with reckless abandon, screaming no me digues! or que fuerte, tio!; old people with scowls on their face stating the obvious (huele de cabra aqui, eh?); music (an occasional belting out of a song while listening to an ipod); and street performers playing the awful accordion. You were lucky if you got a seat; instead you’d be smashed up against people, feeling an old man’s groin in your butt and smelling the smoke breath of the person in front of you. But there was something alive about it.

After the man's cell phone flip out on the train, I looked around and saw three out of four people with laptops, working away. The only background noise was mechanical typing, the conductor’s call for tickets, and the clicking of the ticket puncher. It felt like a classroom after a teacher's reprimand. My office at work is louder. Yes, it was quiet…but it seemed so wrong…like a sterilized lab room.

I’ve witnessed manic train explosions before. Once a kid was playing his music without headphones and a businessman jumped up, got two inches from the kid’s face and said “Shut. It. Off.” Hell, I once yelled at a shrew who was complaining to the conductor. But we should ask ourselves what it is that we're all so pissed off about. If someone speaking on the phone can make us blow like the Eyjafjallajokul volcano, maybe we all need a session in anger management.

5 comments:

  1. Or in other words... you miss Barcelona. Because, let's be honest, there is nothing like living next to the Mediaterranean: everything is more alive, and it's not as fucking cold as NY!

    do you know people have already started going to the beach...?

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  2. It's all about the rage, man. It's not limited to the road, people have it everywhere. There is no doubt in my mind, that if I were on that train, that girl would've annoyed me. But she definitely did not deserve such an aggressive confrontation. He simply could've tapped her on the shoulder and kindly whispered "shut the fuck up" into her ear. Were I there to witness his outburst, I probably would've said to him 'Be easy bro!' while quickly approaching the girl asking 'Are you alright? He won't bother you anymore...I promise. Come here'. Then I'd softly kiss her on the cheek, once on the lips, get her number, and 2 weeks later seal the deal. (Then dump her(obvie)).

    This reminds me of a time I had to commute from the city to Mahopac for whatever Holiday it was. It was day of so the ticket lines were ridic. I always go to the downstairs section of Grand Central because they have 2 lesser known ticket machines. Unfortunately they both had really long lines as well. Over time the line dwindles and I'm noticing the guy in front of me is stressin' haaard. He's looking in every direction, looking at his watch, scowling at the people buying the tickets. He either is really close to missing his train, or shitting his pants. I wasn't sure which it was, maybe both? Anyway, we get down to one person in front of him and the poor guy isn't quite sure how to use the machine. Well, my buddy in front of me just could NOT handle this. He starts flailing his arms, sighing, pacing back and forth, turning red, steaming, etc, etc. I was so close to saying 'LOOK BUDDY, it's nobody’s fault but your own that you're running late. So why don't you calm the HELL down. Maybe next time buy a ticket in advance so you don’t have to throw a temper tantrum if someone holds you back for 5 minutes!' Of course I said no such thing, he got his ticket and dashed off to his train. Sometimes I lay awake at night wondering what ever happened to him. Did he make his train? Did he shit his pants? I usually imagine him shitting his pants on his train so he is trapped there, surrounded by angry commuters, smelling like shit.

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  3. Yesterday, I was driving on the little tertiary road that leads to my house and a bunch annoying 10 to 12 yr old boys were playing ball in the street. Now, I am not against kids playing, but I am against their mothers (when they bother to watch them)yelling to "SLOW DOWN" when I am only doing 15 mph. Anyway I came up upon the kids and there was a little upended tricycle left in the MIDDLE of the road, so I honked for the kid who was standing there to pick it up...after he did and I drove on, I looked in my rear view mirror and one little brat was actually giving me the finger! Betcha that kid is gonna grow up to be your friendly RAGER!

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  4. Kids and commuters and beach-goers, oh my! Josep, anyone at the beach already is a nutjob... it only stopped raining like two days ago! And Amy, lest you forget about the literally deadly serious problem of road rage in this country! I know you know what I'm talkin about, firsthand. NO ONE can drive here without honking, shouting and throwing their hands up as high as their car roof will allow (but rest assured all the while they can still carry on a cell-phone convo and smoke a cigarette).

    One day whilst I was walking along Travessera de Gracia, a car I came up alongside honked about 0.0005 seconds after the light turned green (there were a few cars in front of him, so some sorta laws of physics and traffic would have prohibited him from moving that quickly anyway). I turned and looked at him and laughed and said "Que poca paciencia" and he FREAKED OUT! He started shouting at ME about how he had PLENTY of patience, and all the while I just kept walking and laughing, and I crossed the street, and he turned left and was STILL shouting at me. Ha haa!

    The rage we oh-so-modern humans are feeling these days should be called into question. What is it? Trying to keep up with the latest technology? The latest technology itself? That we all hate our jobs and are forced to sit in shiny metal boxes (thanks, Sting) on our commute, surrounded by IDIOTS (never us, always someone else) while we get there, all day during the day? A lack of peace in the world? Not enough money? The CIA? Lack of exercise? Food additives? Too much junk TV? Chemtrails? Nasally voices? Other people clipping their nails in public? Other people themselves? The spread of TB by those guys who can't stop gobbing on the metro? The fact that if you have a stylist you can call yourself a musician?

    Maybe we all just need to sit on a mountaintop and contemplate the ants or the weeds or the (non-manmade) clouds. Or drink a buncha Jack Daniel's and shout at tourists.

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  5. I’m probably the wrong person you want to get started on rage. This could be a long one folks. Just thinking about my former 45 mile and potential 90 minute commute makes my skin crawl. As a matter of fact I can hear the rage filled creature that lives deep inside of me swearing at the cars now.
    "Go! The light's green you fucking moron!"
    "Are you serious? It’s just a car on the side of the road; you can fit by without slamming on your breaks!"
    "Fuck you D.O.T! Why are you cleaning up dead dear carcasses during rush hour?"
    "C’mon, the speed limit's 45, that means drive 55 not 25, f-ing f,f,f,f, growl!"
    “Don’t let this guy in, don’t let this guy in, don’t let him, don’t let… Asshole!!”
    “What are you waiting for? You don’t need clearance from air traffic control to turn left!”

    People told me my road rage came from having a hellish commute, but even this morning, with only a 15 minute commute, I was ready to take a baseball bat to the windshield of the car in front of me. This fool took 10 seconds to sit at a stop sign and shove his thumb up his ass and then later decided to give up his right of way to let a school bus out. If I had my way, the only right of way he'd be giving up would be to a tube of intravenous applesauce in the ER.

    I managed to restrain myself by thinking about how much worse my commute used to be, however the same restraint was lacking for the following events:

    Event: car cut me off on the exit ramp and proceeded to drive slowly causing me to sit at a red a light.
    RAGE: I threw pens, pencils, and whatever other harmless things were within reach at the car as I re-passed it

    Event: NY Giants blow a 38-14 lead with 4 minutes to go in the 3rd quarter for the 2nd largest meltdown in NFL playoff history
    RAGE: some poor cardboard box got a 25 minute beat down and no longer resembled a box. My step mom also feared for her life.

    Event: My sega baseball player threw the ball to third base even though I clearly hit the button to throw to first base resulting in the batter being safe and ruining my pitching performance
    RAGE: sega controller wouldn’t live to make another mistake after being mashed repeatedly into the floor.

    Event: computer froze causing me to lose hours of work
    RAGE: several pushups and sprints up the stairs along with weights being tossed around in a desperate attempt to keep from breaking something. Unfortunately fatigue set in causing me to drop the weights and break some laminate flooring tiles and the weight bench.

    Event: I missed an easy field goal in NCAA football 2005 for playstation 2 due-to heavy harassment from my roommates causing me to lose a key game in our dynasty.
    RAGE: kicking the front door of our off campus apartment into the wall.

    Event: kicking a door out of rage put a huge and unexpected hole in the wall.
    RAGE: smashing my computer chair against my bedroom wall.

    Event: stupid chair puts a giant dent in wall.
    RAGE: breaking the computer chair by beating it with my.

    End result: banned from playing in the dynasty until my roommate put a larger hole into the living room wall after throwing an interception. Then I was let back in.

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