I’d Rather Not Be A Depraved Mute [Friday Thoughts With TeeCoZee]

Good morning. Or afternoon. Let’s call it afternoon. It’s Friday, December 6, Two Thousand and Thirteen. The weather in Brooklyn is 48˚ with a light rain, to get heavier as the day progresses and somewhere, a good little boy is finding an orange in his shoe for St. Nicholas Day, the Columbus Day of the holiday season.

– I feel a little awkward having this post right next to last week’s Friday Thoughts. It’s a sore reminder that I didn’t write anything else in between. In my defense, I had started my Week 13 NFL Roundup [that was going to be titled “Rob Ford Stretches His Balls Out”], but lacked the inspiration to finish it. That’s not to say that I was too busy, it was simply because I couldn’t think of anything that Deadspin hadn’t already riffed on.

– In speaking of not being busy, in the last 7 days, I have had 4 of them off. A normal person would attack such a luxury with great chagrin, but I didn’t. I spent a bulk of those days alone, hardly uttering a word to anybody. Having the ability to talk is one that we take for granted. I find it to be nearly impossible to have a day worthy of being good without communicating with other people. I spent those days in a haze, wondering if I even existed or what existence even meant. I made occasional test utterances to ensure that I wasn’t catching a cold, but the wall wouldn’t respond. At one point, I caught my roommate in the kitchen, toasting bread. Because of the fact that he eats popcorn all the time, I inquired if he was planning on eating a popcorn sandwich. A true testament that I forgot how to talk to people/how the world works. It was an uncomfortable 25 seconds and then I retreated back into my world of silence. That’s what happens when a days worth of conversation gets bottled up. It just comes out as nonsense. On top of all that, I decided to spend my time catching up on some movies that I was never in the right mood to watch. Two of those included Shame and Bad Lieutenant, both of which deal with extremely depraved anti-protagonists doing extremely depraved things. This led me to believe that I was also a depraved lowlife, not worthy of anybody rooting for me but possibly eligible for Cannes. I felt like I might as well start huffing nitrous oxide and stuff puppies into ATMs. When my Mom called me to chat, I had this overwhelming fear that I was doing something wrong and she would be ashamed of me if only she knew. I think I should start volunteering to work 7 days a week. Scratch that. 8 days a week.

– Why is it that when I’m not in a hurry, I can get from my house to Brighton Beach in 30 minutes flat, but when I’m in a hurry, a 15 minute commute turns into 45?

– It’s becoming a yearly tradition that I need a new bag for Christmas. Last year, I ill-advisedly tried to commute back home with a Philly Cheesesteak in tow. Steak juice everywhere. It started to smell after a few days and I had to ditch it. Then yesterday, I open up my bag to find a bottle of hand sanitizer de-capped. Everything reeks of alcohol, which’ll probably dry out, but not with my luck. I’m expecting my next bag to spontaneously combust by October.

– As tempting as it is to tell a tourist to get lost, I don’t recommend it. That’s when they start asking for directions.

– Derelicts walk really slow. That’s probably really classist, but if one tried to rob me, I think it’d be easy to run away. PCP is so 2003.

– I saw a guy with one foot in a shoe store and I had to ponder for the 557th time how that works. Does he have to pay full price or does he get the display model at a discounted rate? The other shoe is meaningless to him, why would he have to buy both? In a perfect world, he’d be able to make a friend that not only has the opposite foot missing, but also the same shoe size and fashion preferences. Maybe there’s a system where he can give the shoe to a depository, they give him a small reimbursement and it goes to the right match? These assumptions can also be attributed to my temporary muteness.

– I was walking a beeline through Midtown yesterday because I’m a doofus. There was a thirtysomething lady walking the same pace as me. We started at Columbus Circle and she kept walking and walking as I did the same. I didn’t really notice until we got about 10 blocks in, which caused me to muse, “Wow, this lady is as bored as I am!”. I kept waiting for her to turn a corner or enter an office building, but it doesn’t happen. Finally, after 17 blocks, she walks into The Cake Boss™ Cafe. Touché, lady. Touché.

– I wonder what Elian Gonzalez is doing right now.

– Last Sunday, there was a bunch of Hasidics loitering around Bed-Stuy. I’m about to go down into the Subway to buy a Metrocard when one stopped me and inquired if I was Jewish. I said no, went downstairs, found out the machines were broken and went back upstairs, only to be accosted by another one. He got all the way to “Excuse me” before I waved him off and went my merry way. The next night, I’m walking out of work and I’m flagged down by a curly-haired guy wearing a suit.

“Excuse me”
“I’m not Jewish.”
“Uhh…can I get a light?”

Let that be a lesson: Racial profiling gets us nowhere in life.

– Don’t buy batteries from the dollar store, especially if they cost a dollar. Same rules apply for toothpaste and lunchmeat.

– The death of Paul Walker forced thousands of people nationwide to admit that they used to drag race. I swear I’ve heard at least 5 confessions myself.

Chances are, you’re going to have a better weekend than Robinson Cano. Enjoy dat sheet sahns [and dawturs [neeces and nefews too]]!