First off, they are not. I’m sitting at the next table, and I can hear every word you say, even though I’m sitting at the table in the corner directly underneath the speaker. It’s time to use your [tag]indoor voice[/tag]. I’d prefer not to hear about your rather mundane adventures in drug use, your critical estimate of Eurythmics and your sexual proclivities.
I am impressed that you were able to get your friend’s laptop connected to a local wireless network. Nevertheless, I repeat: indoor voice.
Second: shouldn’t you, at age 26, have begun to realize that you don’t know everything, and your generation wasn’t the first to think of everything? I would expect this at 18, maybe even into 21 or 22. But by 26, perhaps it should begin to sink in. Particularly if you still live at home. Or maybe that’s part of the problem.
In any event, there were those of us that thought of using glue to spike our multi-colored hair when you were still a blastocyst. Elmers School Glue was my preference. We had raves in abandoned warehouses too—and word got around without e-mail and Myspace, even. I know it must be hard to believe, but there were bi-sexual women before you decided you wanted to switch hit.
I didn’t really need to know this about you, by the way, but since you brought it up …
What’s more, I’m sure someone spiked their hair with Elmer’s glue long before we thought of it. I’m also sure that at the time, however, we thought we were so cool because we surely must have been the first. Although I’m also sure that we realized that we weren’t the first by the time we were 26. We were probably still arrogant bastards at 26, but at least we were starting to get a clue.
And really, if you are so smart, shouldn’t you have been able to intuit that if you got off a bus headed in one direction, and you wanted to catch the same bus to get back to your embarkation point, back in the opposite direction, that you’d catch the bus on the side opposite from which you got off? Seriously? Even I could figure this out at 26, and I grew up in the suburbs. It’s the Metro, not rocket science.
I wish you luck with getting a clue, and working on what I’m guessing are some major-league [tag]self-esteem[/tag] issues. Maybe moving out of your parents house would be a start.
And using your indoor voice, too. In fact, I don’t bedgrude you your youthful ignorance and hubris–it’s easy to condemn you from the vantage point of 39 years. Just use your indoor voice. Please.
Older, Quieter and Off-the-Air