In preparation for Super-Duper Martes, signs were taped to telephone poles and street light poles this morning. An old guy with long, gray hair and a black baseball hat was doing the precinct work. He noticed that there was remarkably little signage in the Mission this election cycle.
Stopped by the UPS Store, waited in line behind one person, but never got served. The person in head of me was the person being served. She was a plain enough looking girl, though somehow exceedingly odd at the same time. She was talking so loudly that I figured she was speaking to the exceedingly slow-moving clerk in the next room who was apparently searching for a record of this customer's missing delivery.
But, since her loud voice was discussing things like "we should do well the Texas market," and her green handbag blared out her eco-credentials, I eventually figured out she was wearing her hands-free cell unit clipped under one ear, and was shouting into it to her friend or colleague or fellow oddball.
Amazingly oblivious to the rest of us in the lobby (the line by now stretched back seven or eight deep), she then started flapping her arms, much as a large bird unable to fly might do. A chicken came to mind. She also was twisting her head around in some sort of exercise motion, but the flapping of her arms was truly an unprecedented sight for me.
Occasionally, the UPS clerk surfaced with an update, which always was that the package was not there, whereupon the flapping ostrich shared with us all that they shouldn't try to deliver packages at her home because she's never there during the day, and even if she was, the doorbell was broken.
At some point in this tiny drama, the word narcissist escaped my lips, in a whisper. It was at this point that I realized I must really escape, and I did so, muttering under my breath.
It's 49 degrees and sunny outside; breathing the fresh air reminded me how much more I like watching real birds than fake ones. Then, I found myself wondering why some people feel such a sense of entitlement to take up public space. If shouting into a cellphone and flapping your arms like a chicken is becoming acceptable social behavior around here, I'm heading to Japan.
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