bits of tid

bits of tid

People who dispense with niceties used to catch me off-guard. Before my current job, I expected a minimal exchange of greetings before a request for help. I wonder if, as a result, I have done away with my own greeting patter when I am out in the world. It does seem a bit superfluous at times, especially when we are all so furiously busy, scuttling between inputs like crazed crabs. Because of this intensified pace, I become more conscious of how to phrase answers to questions without being condescending or curt. A dyslexic patron today obviously felt quite embarrassed for mixing up the microfilm for 1906 and 1960, and I wonder if my bland “no problem” response was sufficient, or made her feel lessened. I can’t imagine being dyslexic; so much...

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Posted on 10 May 2008 | 3 comments

missing

What I will/won’t miss about my flat: pimp/ho fisticuffs during the wee hours; siren orchestra of Fire Station #3; the little man who slept by the front door of my building who would always say he was sorry when I tiptoed past; surly neighbors; always-packed laundromat; lanky smokers in front of the corner bar, all elbows and coals; lack of street-lamps; single-paned windows; tissue-thin taxi brakes; the 2, 3, and 4 bus lines, especially that tschhhhhh noise; the Angriest Beggar who called me “sweetheart” when he needed anything and “bitch” when he realized he wasn’t going to get it … every single time; bridge-and-tunnel screechers after the bars close; and every single unexplained loud noise in the night. It’s...

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Posted on 1 May 2008 | 3 comments