CitylifeEssay Preview: CitylifeReport this essayStepping onto a tram, glad to be out of the rain, good, there are seats, for a change. Sitting down in a seat I make brief eye contact with a semi-startled looking man wearing an ill-fitting but exensive looking navy suit, flecked with dandruff, over priced mobile phone in his pudgy hand urgently pressing the seemingly too small keys with the urgency of a vietman field medic. “what is his life like?” I thought, “does he know how he is going to pay the rent this week?”
Holding onto one of the handrails, is a pretty girl, wearing too much make-up, trying to look “older” oh how the circle goes I think, as she loudly guffaws into her pink handset, much to the consternation of several passengers,their eyes seem to say “why are you laughing?” Does she not know, life is not for laughing, or making eye contact with strangers, or smiling to show off your expensive veneers, not at all, life is for looking too often and too anxiously at your phone to see has anyone acknowledged your existence in the last three minutes.
Oh this tram car has some serious people in it this morning alright, serious people, with seious lives, serious clothes, serious jobs, serious problems and a serious amount of dissapointment written on their faces every time they glance at their serious phones and realise that no-one else is taking them quite as seriously as they are themselves.
Serious paople wake up, drink instant coffee and pretend they like it, dont smoke even though they really want to, eat lots of fruit, which makes them shit too much, and the skin sticks in their veneers, put on your designer clothes, look themselves up and down in a mirror, without of course making eye contact, lest they see their own despair. Rush to catch a tram to a job they hate, working with people they can;t stand, yet smile sickengly at their pathetic attempts at humour and pukey little stories about Timothy losing another tooth, aww bless, so long as you dont lose a veneer eh?
Endure the presence of some pretentious little pervert with bad breath who happens to be your boss, kiss his skinny little ass and guffaw all the way till your next cigerette break at his witless jokes. Who knows, maybe someday you will get to wear the gold name-badge which in this case reads “Nigel”, but is usually a symbol of, to name but a few, bad breath, narcicissm, living with your mother until your 50 or she dies, whichever arrives first, prolongued bouts of erectile disfunction, an obsession with trains, and addiction to sub-way meal deals, in-human nose hair and an annoying habit of mysteriously appearing to use the toilet cubicle immediatly after I leave. Oh what a marvellous achievement that would be, definitely something to tell the grandkids.
It’s a good way to end this, but I don’t like it either.
This entry was posted on Friday, April 16th, 2015 at 5:12 pm and is filed under: #r/Buffy/comments/6s6vq
Oh, and when you do that, do you tell them the whole truth about your past?
Oh, you want to be a good father. You should. It gets better and better.
What I’m saying to those kids, that’s why we need to talk about something really important, if you get hurt, or any of the other stuff. Don’t let the whole thing turn into petty, and I’ll try my damnedest to remember not to make your future your enemy.
Well, I hope there is no turning back.
This thread is so sad. It must belong to someone that will never tell any good stories again.
And I think I should be better off just taking it to the top of my lungs. There’s nothing I could have done to make it look like everything I’ve ever done was bad.
Good luck with the day, you filthy slutt!
So let’s meet up. We’re going to need the rest of ’em.
No problem. We’ll have to keep our word.
So you really think I’m a good man? Really? The way your face is, I bet.
It’s alright. We may have to get off at once and go to work. Don’t worry about it.
I think we’ll meet at my girlfriend’s (my boss) apartment.
Don’t get me wrong. I love you, I still do. But please don’t be afraid. I love you too.
Love you
This entry was posted on Friday, April 16th, 2015 at 5:12 pm and is filed under: #r/Buffy/comments/6s6vq
Oh, and when you do that, do you tell them the whole truth about your past?
Oh, you want to be a good father. You should. It gets better and better.
What I’m saying to those kids, that’s why we need to talk about something really important, if you get hurt, or any of the other stuff. Don’t let the whole thing turn into petty, and I’ll try my damnedest to remember not to make your future your enemy.
Well, I hope there is no turning back.
This thread is so sad. It must belong to someone that will never tell any good stories again.
And I think I should be better off just taking it to the top of my lungs. There’s nothing I could have done to make it look like everything I’ve ever done was bad.
Good luck with the day, you filthy slutt!
So let’s meet up. We’re going to need the rest of ’em.
No problem. We’ll have to keep our word.
So you really think I’m a good man? Really? The way your face is, I bet.
It’s alright. We may have to get off at once and go to work. Don’t worry about it.
I think we’ll meet at my girlfriend’s (my boss) apartment.
Don’t get me wrong. I love you, I still do. But please don’t be afraid. I love you too.
Love you
