Literacy at its best.

Carpooling from the office with Jonathan, a senior project manager, (currently in charge of a multi-million software development project). Jonathan is a Brit, mid-forties, with a gentlemanly well-groomed beard, a perpetual bow-tie, and an accent that would lend credibility to absolute horseshit.

Somehow, the topic of religion comes up, and Jonathan quickly proclaims his atheistic stance. “…secular, non-observant in any way, shape or form!” - I’m a little surprised by such a bold statement. In my limited experience of dealing with Brits, they tend to be rather mild in manners, and opinions.

“How so? Were you raised atheist?” - “No, Anglican. But ever since I could make rational judgments, I was an atheist. It was always very obvious to me…” “So you were educated on the subject, and have looked into this matter drawing your own conclusions, right?” Expecting his reply to be something like, “Of course! I spent X number of years or at least months reading various points of view, discussing them with… (whoever he considers an authority on the subject), arguing and thinking about it, etc.” Instead, once again I was surprised by his, “No, not really… It has always seemed plainly obvious, yes? Like the nose on your face. - It just is.”

So much for the famed English punctiliousness. The reason for my surprise was not the quaintness of his answer - au contraire - its pedestrian torpor. Here’s a man, given an exceptional education (Cambridge), had every opportunity to form an informed opinion, and he comes up with this load of crap. He literally had nothing else to offer in support of his view.

I nodded and commented on a French restaurant that we were passing. I can only hope that his decision-making processes at work are a smidgen more sophisticated.

It’s a bus!..

It’s not New York (thank god!) and it’s not Flint, MI (ditto). Most people take public trans here daily. Yesterday evening, I’m waiting for the bus, heading back North. In its usual timely manner (20 min.), the bus arrives. A tiny, almost fossilized Filipino woman scurries to the bus entrance, leaving a dozen or so people standing patiently in line behind. “She’s old and decrepit,” I told myself, “let it go.” She climbs aboard with surprising (for her age) agility, but that’s where it ends. She begins rummaging through a three-gallon purse for her wallet. Some mere couple of minutes later, it’s found. Now, for the card… Aha! Nope, not this one – doesn’t go through; not even after 3rd try. No worries, she’s got another one. Alas, “no good! no good!” says the driver, whose English wasn’t that great to begin with, and has steadily declined since the old lady got on board. Cash? - Sure. But in a different wallet. - Another minute. And, Halleluja, she gives exact change. - Good, right? Half the fucking fare was in pennies. Need I say more?
Nothing against Filipinos or geriatrics,.. but if you take a goddamn bus, it’s the same routine every time you get on it! Same fucking fare. Have your cards, and your cash ready. Count the fucking cents BEFORE you get on. DON’T assume that the rest of us are waiting for the messiah at the bus stop, and you’re entitled to bypass us because you need a sit. Your site alone would move most of us to let you sit down, and maybe buy you a burger and a deodorant. But this behavior makes me wanna reconsider my stands on euthanasia and immigration.