The Saddest Place on Earth

To the HOTTIE in wawa today around 845am i think you saw me checking you out if you happen to see this and you are single id love to buy you a beer! You were wearing a pair of ear phones tell me what else you were wearing so i know you are the person this post is intended for!

If you haven't done it, by all means go to Craigslist and sit for a few hours and read the personal ads.  Like watching "Hoarders," it will immediately make you feel better about your life and simultaneously cause you to wonder about the state of modern life in America.  I have it bookmarked.

 

You caught my eye as I was ordering my Latte at the counter. You were having a conversation with the woman making your sandwich. Then you dropped your bag after checking out--I watched you leave and we caught each looking.. And smiled! I would love to know your name!

 

The thing that it points out to me is the severe lack of communication in a society that seems to value communication to the point that it pays money for messaging and e-mail.  And therein lies the problem:  We value non-personal communication over personal communication.  Raise your hand if you have conducted business or arranged a transaction entirely through e-mail or text message.  [hand raised]

 

The messages I posted are under the heading "Missed Connections,"  which is a euphemism for "I saw you but I couldn't speak."  Sad that these people think that their chances are better as anonymous Craigslist postings than they were in actually speaking to the person that they saw when they saw them.  There's where the "I feel better now" moment kicks in for me.

 

I suppose it's the fear of rejection or some other self-inflicted attitude that keeps these people from following through on their gut feelings.  They see a person at a coffee counter or buying something but feel too intimidated by the moment to reach out and risk public contact.  It's much safer and far less risky to post a Craigslist ad.  That way, they can say, "Oh, I guess she didn't see the ad" and justify their inaction.  [I'm a psychoanalyst in my spare time]

 

You were the one that renewed my license, you had me so mesmerized, I knocked all your pens over. I really wanted to ask for your number, but your boss was hanging to close. I came back on Saturday, you were out, I left my card with one of the girls, hoping you would call me. Well, maybe you'll read this & respond. Put my job title on the subject line so I know it's you.

 

Or, maybe you won't read this.  It's a social crap shoot.  Like gambling without the financial risk.  And, I haven't even talked about the "Casual Encounters" section of Craigslist.  You can find that out for yourself, or wait until I decide that I can construct a compelling argument for reading ads from  transsexuals and women seeking oral sex in their automobiles.  It may take a while to conjure that up.

 

So, off I go to read some more Missed Connections.  Perhaps, one day I'll see one asking about that creepy bald guy buying the veggie sub at Wawa.

 

Oh,  I buried the lead.

 

Election Day and one interruption...

So, here it is Sunday night, two days before election day.  Here in New Jersey, we have several big contests to decide.  We will be electing a county clerk, surrogate and a sheriff.  Not a sheriff like Andy Taylor or Buford T. Justice.  A sheriff like one who rides around in a county vehicle handing out summons' and ... I don't know ... locking up stray dogs or something.  I really don't know what a sheriff does, besides collect a big New Jersey State Pension when he retires, or isn't elected to whatever his term is.  Clueless.

 

Oh, and yes, there's that presidential election.  Among the candidates are a Socialism and Liberation party candidate, one from the American Third Position (I thought there were more positions than three) a Constitution Party candidate, and a few others who stand to clog up the ballot to the point that their family and friends will vote for them and you will not see their vote totals posted in your local newspaper.

 

It says here that, on Wednesday (you will not know the winner when you go to bed on Tuesday night) the guy who wins the popular vote will lose to the guy who wins the Electoral College vote.  You couldn't find 30 people in a crowd at the Deptford Mall who know what the Electoral College means, yet that will decide our president for the next 4 years.  Strange, isn't it?  More on that later.

 

Today at the Shop Rite:

Man behind me in line:  What do you want?
Woman with him: I'm going back for cake.

Man behind me in line:  OK, but don't complain when they call you 'an old fat-ass!'

Me:  But it tastes so good!

 

There are two ballot questions on our ballot for Tuesday.  They always include an "Interpretive Statement" after the question.  That's because the question is worded in such a way that the average American (translated: Deptford Mall shopper) can't understand the question, so they have to interpret it for us - like we're watching "Honey Boo Boo."  Meanwhile, nobody seems to mind that questions on our ballot have to be interpreted.  Moreover, nobody seems to mind that, after reading the interpretive statement, we still don't know what we're voting on.

 

So, go ahead and vote.  It's important.  Mostly for your local elections and less so for the national one.  Most of the things you care about happen at the local level - school board, Township Committee, State Senate - all that junk that doesn't garner national headlines.  Here in New Jersey, the Electoral vote will probably go to Obama, so if you vote for Romney, feel good about making a choice but in the end, our forefathers have rendered your vote a formality.  That's our system, and whether you like it or not, that's the way it works.

 

Maybe you can find the sheriff and get him to fix it?